Shift, Drive, Push
by Cat Carroll
Summary: The story behind Kat in the J & J series.
1. Chapter 1

Shift, Drive, Push  
  
Rating: R - For language and adult situations  
  
Disclaimer: This is a toughie. It's technically a fanfiction of my fanfiction. And some of the people are alternate personalities of real people. So whoever owns what gets to keep it. That works.  
  
A/N: Before you start to read this, there's a couple of things that I need to explain. First, the disclaimer is completely accurate. I'll get to that in a second. Second, this is not all my work. Actually, most of it is actually written by a rather talented writer and some of it I have written and then more of that I've put my own flavor into it. I think you'll see what I mean as the story progresses. Right now, it's considered to be a joint work. So, what the hell was I talking about in the disclaimer then? Okay, if you have read the J & J series, then you know Kat from #7. Kat is actually a real person and I borrowed a personality of hers for that story. She asked me for a cameo and I needed a bad influence on Kay and she was quite pleased to go from a cameo to a major character. But in the meantime, as the real Kat read the story, she was wondering about story Kat. How did she get there and why she was the way she was. To make a long story short we started talking, the talking turned into collaborating and now there's a new fic which is based off of the J & J series. Hope you guys enjoy. And remember, Kat is a relatively new writer and she's nervous about this fic, so send her lots of reviews, okay?  
  
**************  
  
You ever see those movies all the old folks talk about? You know the ones, the pre-pulse movies where boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, boy chases girl, boy and girl fall in love and then live happily ever after? The cheesy, no good, not gonna happen, give you false hopes and dreams sorts. Well, if that's what you're looking for then you're in the wrong place so get the hell out.  
  
I'm not one for fairytales, and my life sure as hell isn't now, nor ever has been one. If you're coming here and barging in on my life then don't be offended by what I say, what I do, or any other of the various things you might take offense at. I'm not in the business of caring about you or what your petty mind is conjugating. You can't live like that these days, you gotta look out for yourself. Out here you can't afford to slip up or else you're out on the streets, or worse; dead.  
  
Sure it's a tough world, but as a guy told me once, I've got platinum balls so I manage. I got me a place to live, it's an old junkyard from way back when. It's a nice place really. It's got that nice dirt, grease, and old car smell to it. I love that smell. Reminds me of my babies; my cars. They're the one constant in my life. Knowing when I come home I've got my cherries waiting to be worked on. I've been in this dive for going on four or so years I guess.  
  
I'd been running for two days straight and had crawled in the back of a random junked up car. It was the best random thing I've ever done, come to find out. The next morning some guy was looking me over, he asked what I was doing and I told him to fuck off. He shrugged and said I wasn't fine enough to waste a good hand-job on. That got me out of the junked up car and shooting a glare his way. He looked a couple years older than me, a bit of peach fuzz dotted his upper lip. He must've been a few inches taller than me, lean and slender. Okay, in one word, he was Hot. I noticed his elevator eyes on me and rolled my own, "Thought I wasn't worth your time."  
  
He shrugged, "You're not, but I gotta know what sorts are sneaking into my crib."  
  
"Oh please." I scoffed, "How is this your 'crib'? It's a junk yard in the middle of LA. And I wasn't sneaking, I just needed a place to crash before I dropped from exhaustion." Now normally, I wouldn't even share that much with the guy, but hey, he wasn't chasing me off, so I figured I might be able to score a place to settle down. I'd been gone long enough for the cops to have given up on my ass, anyway.  
  
Speaking of which, looked like the perve before me was a bit enamored with mine. I smirked and jutted out one hip, "So, you going to kick me out or invite me to stay."  
  
The guy blinked, "Huh?"  
  
I grabbed my bag from the car I'd slept in and walked next to him, patting him on the chest, "Come on, Sparky, time to show me around my new home." "What? No," he objected. Granted he didn't sound very convincing but still, it was an objection. I looked up at him and smiled innocently, "Please?" Apparently that was a good enough for him cause he gave me a curt nod back and led me through the junk yard to a grubby shack I'd come to know as home. It was bigger than it looked on the inside. One wall was a wall of cars and the others were comprised of different metals, boards, and a couple other questionable materials, either way they looked like they were about to come down. There were a few random crates, an old bed and ratty looking couch.  
  
"Nice." I offered, only to receive a grunt in return.  
  
He surveyed the room, as if scanning if it was safe then pointed to the couch, "You can put your shit there."  
  
I nodded my thanks and dropped onto the couch, "Rad."  
  
"Rad?" the guy scoffed.  
  
I shot him and annoyed look, "Yeah, Rad. If you don't like it you can kiss my ass."  
  
"You're not very gratefully for someone who was just given a free place to live." He reprimanded, walking to the bed and laying down.  
  
"My apologies." I sneered sarcastically.  
  
He raised his head in my direction, "Chill with the sarcastic sentiments or I'm dropping your ass."  
  
My eyebrows raised, "Wow, a three syllable word, don't hurt yourself, Sparky."  
  
"Scott." He growled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"My name is Scott."  
  
I walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, "Name's Kat."  
  
And that's how it all started. He and I lived together, mostly keeping out of each other's way at first, but eventually we got to be more acquainted. After a month or so I found out he'd only been in the yard a couple weeks before I showed up. When I asked him why he let me stay he told me I had a nice rack. Who was I to argue?  
  
* * * *  
  
I have to admit, it was weird. All of a sudden I was living with a guy I hardly knew. And it's not like I could get to know him either, he was the real secretive type. I'd attempt to ask him questions, even such simple ones as his favorite color and only get a grunt or shrug in reply. But I didn't push him, I mean, the guy was giving me free room and board, providing me food and blankets and basically taking care of me. God I hated that.  
  
We mostly stayed out of each other's way and let bygones be bygones. At least until we had to semi-join forces.  
  
It was just going to be another day in the life of Scott, Kat, and the Junk yard. Or so I'd thought the night before. But when I was awoken to the sound of male voices arguing, one of which was Scott, I knew something was up. So much for just another day, I thought as I scrambled out of bed to pack up my few belongings. If it was the cops or someone looking for trouble; someone looking for me.No. I shook my head. My hands were shaking as I grabbed my bag. It was the cops, I knew it and this time there was no escaping them. I was sure to be caught. I stopped and listened as I heard Scott's voice rise. He was being pretty stubborn about something. The other voice argued back something about a permit or a lease. My mind whirred as I put together what was going on.  
  
My heartbeat settled as the last puzzle piece slid into place. It was just another sleazy sector cop looking to put some pathetic squatters out a roof over their heads. It happened every few months and was really just a ploy for the boys to take home a little extra for the missus. It was corrupt, but then who isn't now days?  
  
I could tell from the strangled sounds coming from Scott that the arguing was not going in his favor so I glanced at my image in an old, cracked, and smudged mirror we'd found one day. I looked alright in my boxer shorts and sports bra, it would most likely be good enough for what I needed too. I knew how to convince the guy to let us stay, I'd done it before and I was sure this wouldn't be the last time I'd have to do it either.  
  
I put on my best smile as I stepped out of the shack, "Scott, sweetie, what's going on?" Both the sector cop and Scott froze and turned to look at me.  
  
"What else are you hiding in there boy?" the Cop asked, giving me a once over. I looked at Scott and had to count to three to keep from bursting out laughing. His look was classic, he looked confused and shocked all in one.  
  
I looked back at the sector cop and then had to count to three just to keep from sneering at him. The look on his face made my skin crawl. I was fresh meat to him and I could tell this guy really liked fresh meat. Now I know that my outfit hugged all the right places and showed off enough of me to look good, but still. Ew. The guy was practically drooling. I'd had people look at me like that before and had always hated it, this one was no different, except he had creepy written all over him on top of it all. I wanted to pull Scott in front of me and hide myself from his carnivorous look but forced myself to keep the smile on my face.  
  
"Baby," I purred, sashaying to wards Scott, "Why didn't you tell me we had company?" Scott's face lost all its color and his jaw dropped as he tried to stammer a response. He looked so cute. I smiled at him and gently pushed his mouth closed with my fingers as I winked at him before turning to the sector cop. "And what can I do for you, Mr. Policeman?"  
  
The man's face broke into a sickly grin, "I was just checking for a permit, little lady."  
  
"A permit?" I feigned a look of worry and bit my lip, "Oh dear, what if we don't have a permit?"  
  
If at all possible the man's smile deepened as he outright roved my body with his eyes, "Well, I guess I'll have to charge you a fine."  
  
My hand lightly played on my stomach, "But oh." I replied, looking up at him from under my eyelashes, "I don't seem to have any money either." My finger traveled up my body as I brought it to my mouth, lightly sucking on it.  
  
"Well," he leered, adjusting his utility belt, "I might be bale to arrange something in return for." he trailed off, his eyes landing on my breasts.  
  
Inwardly I groaned. Guys and boobs, it's just fatty breast tissue, but to them they're practically the equivalent of gold or something. His look almost made me puke, and I had to remind myself that this was my home on the line to keep my cool. Closing my eyes I lifted my sports bra up over my breasts and then slipped it off my head, "How's this officer?" I asked innocently.  
  
Be hind me I heard Scott's breath catch, which made me smirk. I looked over my shoulder to see his wide eyed, red face. I turned back to the sector cop and took a step forward, "Do we have a deal?" I asked, putting my hand out. The cop looked at my hand and waved it off before giving a small nod and walking away.  
  
I let out my breath and untangled my bra, slipping it over my head before turning to face Scott whose face was still an interesting shade of red, "Well, glad that's over with." I tossed out, walking towards the shack.  
  
I.I was handling it." Scott stammered, following behind me.  
  
"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, "I could tell too. I mean, you yelling at him was really getting somewhere."  
  
Scott shrugged, "Whatever."  
  
"Oh come on now," I teased, "don't get your boxers all in a bunch cause I can do something you can't. Trust me, if I could trade you so I could pee standing up." I stopped, noticing the look on Scott's face, "Fine," I sighed, "I just wanted to help, Scott. And besides, I got us this place for another couple months or so. The least you could do is thank me."  
  
"Thank you?" Scott asked, bewildered, "For letting some ogre ogle your goodies?"  
  
I turned to face him, hands on my hips, "Hey, you said so yourself, I've got a nice rack. Besides, I've dealt with scum like that before. We're good, no biggie, can you just let it go?"  
  
"I could have dealt with him just fine with out you interfering," he protested.  
  
I sighed and threw up my hands, "I was just trying to pitch in, Okay? I mean, what were you going to do? Nothing short of killing him would have satisfied the weasel if it was from you."  
  
Scott glared at me and stalked off, dropping to the bed, "I was handling it."  
  
I stood over him, "Get off it, Scott."  
  
"Whatever." He answered bitterly, rolling over.  
  
That was it, he was being a little bitch about it, "Dammit Scott!" I yelled, "I don't know what to say. I heard you guys arguing and just wanted to help out, to pitch in, to repay you."  
  
He looked up at me, "Repay me?"  
  
"Yes, repay you." I continued, the volume of my voice slightly lowering, "I've been here going on two months now and every day you bring food, drinks, blankets, pillows, a mirror.And what do I do? Nothing, I sit and complain about being bored or not having anything to do. Forgive me for wanting to be able to do something for once. I hate feeling so helpless." I sat down on the edge of the bed in a huff, hanging my shaking head in frustration.  
  
"Okay." Scott mumbled.  
  
I looked over at him, "Okay?"  
  
He nodded, "Yeah, okay. Thanks. I." he stopped as if trying to figure out his words, "I may be able to get you all that stuff, but I guess there are things I can't get. That you can with your." he started stammering and I grinned at him.  
  
I leaned over and gave him a hug, "Thanks Scott."  
  
"Yeah." He rolled onto his back, looking up at me, "So you want to help out, huh?"  
  
"God yes." I breathed.  
  
He pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling for a moment, "Okay."  
  
"Okay?" I questioned.  
  
"You can help me." He nodded.  
  
My eyes widened, "Really?"  
  
His eyes met mine, "Only if you're willing to listen to me and do what I tell you when I tell you."  
  
I nodded back at him, "Just as long as it's not too bizarre, I think I can deal."  
  
"It's not going to be easy." He added, "You're going to have to work hard and be able to pick up on things quick."  
  
I smiled and leaned over him, causing him to squirm uncomfortably "I think I can manage, Sparky." 


	2. Chapter 2

Scott's idea of me helping didn't quite pan out as I thought. A few times I'd walked into the garage that was connected to our shack while he was supposedly 'working' but all I ever saw was him leaning over the engine of a car or he would be taking all the interior seating and the dash and altering them somehow. I figured it was just another 'guy thing' he did, but turns out it was actually a pretty decent business he had for himself.  
  
It'd been an accident really. Some bozo in a rich suit had walked into the junkyard while Scott was repairing an old refrigerator a couple days after he got to the junkyard. Bozo looked totally doped and Scott figured he was needing a fix and looking for a dealer. Bozo had asked Scott where he was and Scott being Scott told the guy he was right in the middle of Junkyard, LA. It turned out that he was doped, but not by choice. He had picked up this chick in a bar and she suggested they go out to his car for a little fun. He didn't know that she had slipped something in his drink. What he knew was that he had passed out and woken up in an alley with no car. Luckily, she didn't know where he kept his cash but still the man looked like nothing but a big ass target in his suit in this part of LA at night. Scott, feeling sorry for the guy, offered him a car he'd gotten running so that Bozo wouldn't have to walk home in the neighbor hood at night. The car was one that Scott had just been playing with and planned on restoring totally. Scott didn't know it, but the guy was a car buff and could see where the car had been and where Scott was planning on taking it. The guy accepted and asked how Scott managed to get a beauty like that in a dump like this, Scott said he's fixed it up himself blah blah blah, the guy was impressed, thanked Scott and wished him luck and took off.  
  
A few days later another guy in a suit showed up, Scott, thinking the guy had been scammed like the first dude that showed up, started to tell him he was in the wrong place but this suit stopped him and whipped out a card with the name T. A. Barron printed in nice gold letters. He said his boss had told him that Scott did work on cars and Mr. Barron was in the market for a decent automobile. Scott showed the suit around and they settled on a car and a pretty hefty price. Less than a week later another suit showed up and it was the same deal but a different name. Scott never asked questions and just fixed up the cars that the people picked out. When Scott told me, I was amazed. He was a 16-year-old automotive genius.  
  
I assume you've figured out how I was supposed to help earn my keep. Now, I admit I'd never really been into cars, or anything with wheels for that matter. It'd never been a pleasantry I'd had when I was little so it's not like I even knew what or if I was missing out. When I got older my philosophy was that if it couldn't get me out of where I was, then I didn't care. What I did know was that I was a pretty quick learner and if I set my mind to it I could do it. Turns out with cars I wasn't as quick as I thought I was though.  
  
"Kat, hurry it up!" Scott yelled at me.  
  
I sighed and surveyed the toolbox, I knew it was one of these, just couldn't remember which one was the hatchet wrench. My brow furrowed, "Hold up, I'm working on it!" I yelled back, grabbing one I thought was it. "Here." I handed him the tool and he looked at me.  
  
"Kat," he laughed, "This is a screw driver."  
  
I stomped my foot. "What? I swear, you asked for that last time you said hatchet wrench!"  
  
Scott shook his head, "No," he argued, rolling out from beneath the car that we, well rather, he was working on and got up to look in the toolbox. "This is a hatchet wrench." He held up the grimy tool.  
  
"Oh," recognition hit me. "Woops?"  
  
"Woops?" Scott looked at me with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Hey, it's not like I grew up doing this stuff, and I'm sure you handed someone the wrong tools at one time too! It's only my first week on the job. So don't give me any grief, Mister Fix-it."  
  
Scott shook his head slightly as he rolled back under the car, "Hand me a 5/8."  
  
"A wha." I stopped short and wandered back to the toolbox, this one I knew. It was the little head for the hatchet wrench. I just had to figure out which one it was. "Uh, here." I said, handing him the piece.  
  
"So, how'd you learn all this stuff about cars?" I asked after too many seconds of silence, "I mean, it's not like you were born with this knowledge."  
  
Scott remained silent for a moment, "Um, from an old buddy of mine. He cleaned me up off the streets and told me I could be doing better things with my hands. So he taught me all he knew about fixing up cars, or pretty much anything with an engine, electronics, or two wheels."  
  
"Really? So, where is this guy now?" I questioned, "And is he as good a teacher as you?" I rolled my eyes when Scott didn't respond. "Scott?"  
  
He slid out from under the car and looked into my eyes, "He's gone now. Just a memory from the past."  
  
I nodded slowly. That wasn't just telling me something. That was an order about off-limits topics. Apparently this buddy-guy was a soft spot and wasn't to be brought up again. "Okay." I said turning back to the toolbox, "So what do you need next?"  
  
"Glass of water." He mumbled, checking the thing he'd called the filter.  
  
"A what?" I automatically turned to the toolbox and started perusing the tools before it hit me what he'd said. "Oh, okay. This one I can do." I jumped off the stool and walked into our shack. Filling the glass with water and walking back towards the garage I glanced at the doorway. A man in a suit was standing, giving me a leery look.  
  
"Can I help you?" I asked cautiously, glancing towards the garage.  
  
The man glanced around the shack before looking directly at me again. "I'm looking for Scott."  
  
"One second." I nodded my head towards to garage, "I'll get him."  
  
The man gave a curt nod as I walked back to the garage. I set the glass of water on one of the numerous crates, "Someone's here to see you."  
  
"Who is it?" He asked, looking up from the engine.  
  
"He didn't say, just that he was looking for Scott." I answered, glancing at the water.  
  
He nodded and grabbed the glass as he walked into the shack. He had the oddest look on his face. Curious I followed him. The second he saw who it was it almost looked like his face fell. Oh he was so not going to try and get out of telling me what was going on.  
  
"Garrett." Scott nodded at the man in the suit.  
  
'Garrett' stuck out his hand and smiled, "Ah, Scott. My favorite businessman. How's it going?"  
  
Scott shook Garrett's hand then took a drink of water, "Can't complain. Business is going good and all."  
  
"I see you got yourself a girlfriend." Garrett eyed me again. If he looked at me like I was a piece of candy one more time I was going to throw the glass of water in Scott's hand at him. Glass included. And possibly a few of the tools as well. I knew that one thing, the pry bar, would do some damage to a skull.  
  
"I'm not his girlfriend." I snapped, dropping onto the couch, "I'm his associate." I corrected him.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry." Garrett apologized then glanced at Scott, "Anyway, I have another job for you if you want it."  
  
Scott looked at me then rubbed his chin, "I dunno, man. I've already got a few jobs backed up, and with me training my."  
  
"Barron's offering almost twenty-five grand." Garrett interrupted.  
  
I jumped off the couch, my eyes wide. "Twenty-five thousand *dollars*?"  
  
Garrett nodded, "Desperate times call for desperate prices."  
  
"Can you excuse us a second, Gare?" I looked at Scott and pulled him aside, "Scott, come on. We can do this. It's twenty-five grand!"  
  
He studied me then shook his head, "I've got my hands full and with me having to work with you so much, I don't know if I've got the energy to add another car to my stack. I know Barron; he'll want me to take a car from nothing but the frame. That means I'll have to find all the parts and all the labor. It won't be easy at all. You think what we're doing now is hard."  
  
"Yeah," I nodded then glanced at Garrett, "But twenty-five grand? Don't tell me you aren't even tempted."  
  
"Of course I am, but it's not logically possible. I've got customers that are waiting as it is."  
  
"I'll work harder, Scott. I promise. Come on, we can't pass up a pay off like this. I'm not afraid to get my hands a little dirty here" I pressed.  
  
"Okay, let me think about it." He muttered turning back to Garrett. "When does Mr. Barron want it by?"  
  
Garrett grinned, "When can you get it done?"  
  
Scott looked at me then back at Garrett, "Like I said, I've got a few customers already, I don't know how long it would take."  
  
"An estimate then?" Garrett pursued.  
  
"A month maybe?" he offered.  
  
"A month?" Garrett questioned, his eyebrows raised.  
  
Scott nodded, "Month and a half probably, but the price might have to go up a bit. It'll be a time crunch and getting the materials I need won't be easy."  
  
"What if I could promise that we could get the parts and you'd just have to put them together?" Garrett offered.  
  
"If you can get the parts here with in a week, we're talking maybe another week or two." Scott calculated.  
  
"We can do that." Garrett confirmed, "We've got the parts on standby and we just need the right man to put them together, you know we always come to you first."  
  
"I appreciate that, Garrett, I really do. But again, I can't make any real promises here." Scott repeated.  
  
"Barron's not asking for promises, Scott, he's asking for a car." Garrett responded with an oily smile as he turned to leave. "The parts will be here in three days."  
  
Scott and I both watched him walk out and I let out the breath I was holding, "Twenty-five grand?!" I squeaked, "Who the hell has twenty-five grand to spend on a car?"  
  
Scott ran a hand through is hair, "We don't' have time to think about it," he grimaced, "I have to focus on the jobs I've got and try to finish them up as much as I can with in three days. That's impossible."  
  
"I can help!" I offered, following him back into the garage, "I will get it, I promise."  
  
"You better, we can't screw up here, Kat." He warned, "You don't know these people or the reputations these people have."  
  
I stopped walking, "What do you mean?"  
  
"Barron and all the other big shots I work for, they're not the sort of business men that you can jerk around. I don't make the deadlines, they do. And if I don't meet those deadlines..." He looked at me, "If *we* don't make those deadlines.It won't be pretty. These guys own people. People who wouldn't have the slightest problem running in here and shooting the place up."  
  
My eyes were wide, "whoa.I.I." I dropped to my stool for a moment then hopped up, "Okay, let's do it. I'll stay up all night and all day if it takes. Tell me what you need and when you need it."  
  
Scott glanced at me, "You're going to have to be real quick here Kat, remember, we've got roughly three days to work on the current deals. After that, it's all going to be Barron's car."  
  
"I get it, Scott." I nodded, "Now come on, what's my first job?"  
  
Scott looked around the garage, "I need you to find three duel exhaust mufflers, a couple steering wheels, a transmission box, and a rear and front bumper. Then I'll need you to run to the hardware store and see if you can find chrome and gold spray paint and steel wool. Then I need you to come back and prime and paint the bumpers. While that's trying, use the wool to get all of the rust off of the mufflers and then spray them with the high temp paint. Oh, and while you're looking through the junkyard for the stuff, see if you can spot any good looking seat covers or material to cover the seats and the steering wheels. Finish that and then I'll give you more to do."  
  
"Okay," I nodded slowly taking all he said in, "Got it."  
  
Scott walked to one of the walls and moved a muffler, revealing a hole in the wall. He pulled out a rather large wad of bills and handed it to me, "Don't worry about prices too much. For now, there's plenty more where that came from and we don't have time to try and haggle. Now go."  
  
I saluted, and turned to go, "Yes, Mr. Fix-it." Grabbing my bag I stuffed the money inside and took off for the hardware store. "I find a place to settle down and now I find out we're three days away from it being shot or blown up. Great, just great. How do I get myself into these things?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Sure enough, three days later the parts showed up outside our shack. Scott and I had barely slept since Garrett's visit and we were still working as fast as we could to finish the last touch ups to the paint job of our last customer when the final box of parts fell and Garrett walked into the garage, "The stuff's all there, I'll be back in a week to check on your guys' progress."  
  
Scott nodded and glanced at me, "We'll be here."  
  
I nodded and smiled at Garrett, "Don't worry, Gare, we're your guys."  
  
Garrett gave me an annoyed nod in response and turned, "A week!" he called to us as he walked out.  
  
The moment he was out of sight I dropped onto the stool, "Scott, I'm tired and hungry, if I don't eat or sleep soon, I'm going to die."  
  
Scott wiped the sweat off of his brow and nodded, "I know, I know, but we've got a week to put this all together. Think of it like a giant puzzle. No sweat, right?"  
  
I glared at him and sighed, "You're going to die too, you know."  
  
"I don't need sleep," he argued.  
  
"Yes you do," I shot back. "It is okay to admit that you need sleep. Humans do that, you know."  
  
Scott gazed at me and nodded, "Okay, so I might need some sleep, but that doesn't mean I've got time to do it. We've got boxes to haul and open, and now we've really got to start working."  
  
I held up a hand, "Look, you go sleep and I'll haul all the boxes in here and open them up. Don't worry about it. As soon as I've got it all in here I'll wake you up and then I will sleep until you really need me."  
  
Scott sighed and looked towards the shack. "You sure?"  
  
"Positive." I answered flexing my muscles and deepening my voice, "Buff woman take care of it, Sparky." I grinned at him.  
  
Surprisingly he smiled back and patted me on the back as he walked into the shack, "Thanks Kat."  
  
I nodded and watched him fall onto the bed. He was so exhausted. It practically emanated from his pores. Taking a deep breath I walked to the boxes, "Okay, boys." I cracked my knuckles, "Time for you to do what mama says when she says it."  
  
Scott was amazed when I woke him up three hours later. Not only had I brought the boxes into the garage but I'd put some of the parts together too. More importantly, I'd put them together correctly. It's not like I hadn't been paying attention the entire time he was teaching me. Either way, we worked our asses off and as promised, a week later Garrett showed up. Scott and I had come an amazingly long way in only a week. We'd even gotten some shuteye. In shifts, but still, sleep is sleep. Garrett didn't stay long, said he had some other business on the other side of town, but he did mention that we were doing a good job and he'd be back in a couple days to see how much more we'd done.  
  
Later Scott filled me in by telling me we had two more days worth of work to finish up. It really wouldn't be that hard. We had a little more engine work to do, had to make sure it ran and that everything worked right, then we would only have the paint job left. Barron wanted the car to be a slick metallic silver and wanted a fancy interior to match. I personally thought the car rocked and mentioned more than once that Scott and I would have to recreate the car for myself one day.  
  
We kept working steadily and the next time Garrett showed up he was able to hand us the money, we tossed him the keys, and then he drove out of our garage. The second the car was out of hearing range both Scott and I let out our breath and all the stress and rushing caught up with us. We still had a few touch ups to do on the jobs we'd stopped while we were working on Barron's car, but we both decided screw it and fell into bed.  
  
That was the first night Scott and I actually slept on the bed together. Usually one of us took the couch as not to invade each other's personal space, but at that time, neither of us cared. We'd had a completely exhausting week and the moment our bodies hit the old mattress we were goners.  
  
I do remember thinking, before I fell asleep, how much fun it had been working next to Scott though. I was getting the hang of this business and almost anticipated the next time we got a big job like that. 


	3. Chapter 3

After Garrett came and claimed the car, we were able to actually breathe and not have to think about nothing but parts and interiors and paints and gaskets and wires and, well, you get the point. The other jobs weren't life or death either. The owners didn't like waiting, but they expressed it with a grunt of displeasure, not oh, say, shooting Scott and me dead. Now that there was time to think about things, I did. And one topic stood out from the rest.  
  
It's amazing how much good food isn't on the market in LA. I swear, I'd been living with Scott for more time that either of us had ever planned and all we had eaten was some sort of preserved, dehydrated meals the entire time. Once Scott did come home with a couple apples and an actual loaf of bread, but neither lasted long. Well, we'd been doing well with the car business. Even after Barron's twenty-fiver had taken off; we still had a steady flow of requests that came in.  
  
I was learning a lot, but one particular evening I was sick of working on cars and wanted to get out. No, more than out, I wanted to have a good cooked meal. Scott was so busy under the hood of another car that he didn't even notice me leave. I swear, that boy is obsessive compulsive with working on cars. It's all he ever does. I mean, you'd think he'd get tired of it, but no. The guy got up, had a glass of water, and then shuffled into the garage, never to been seen again until his stomach came calling. Men.  
  
Anyway, after I slipped out of the garage I was looking around the shack for anything to eat. More dehydrated food, but that was so not going to satisfy the hankering I had. I wanted something rich and creamy. Walking out of the house I surveyed the junkyard, it looked like after the pulse hit everyone dumped their cars, washers, dryers, refrigerators, and every other large appliance that was of no use in the place. I figured something had to be worth a bit of money or food, so I began searching through the larger appliances and the cars. After a good while of finding nothing but rusty parts I ran across a beat up looking car with its trunk open. Passing it off for a piece of junk I walked behind it to a rather large double door refrigerator. As I passed by the open trunk of the beat up car, I noticed something that had fallen out of a bag. Probably got shaken out in that last small earthquake we had just had. I took a second look and there were two large candlestick-things there that could hold three candles, but they were greenish brown. I picked it up anyways and rubbed my finger against the base and the tarnish rubbed off, revealing shining silver beneath. My eyes widened as I took a closer look. Intricate design covered the handle of the candlesticks. I picked one up and was shocked at how heavy it was. Someone would definitely be interested in one of these puppies.  
  
Two hours later I stood over oven range I had scrounged, boiling some water to put some pasta into. The market had been easier to work than I thought it'd be. After walking through it for a couple minutes I saw a jewelry vendor and asked what I could get for a candlestick. I'd actually only brought one and figured I'd save the other for a rainy day. After the guy looked over the candlestick he told me I could get about fifty bucks for it. Now, I'm not stupid, I don't care what anyone says, I'm not, and I knew I could get more than a lousy fifty bucks for a candle stick that you could knock out a good sized guy with.  
  
Thus began the bartering skills of Kat. Finally I argued enough for noodles, spices, and even a chicken. A live chicken at that. Well, it was a live chicken, until I told the guy I didn't want a live chicken. He took care of that problem quick enough though. So not an hour after I'd been in the market was I walking home with some noodles, a few spices I'd weaseled into the deal, and a dead chicken in a plastic bag.  
  
My only qualms were what I was going to have to do to cook the chicken. After plucking, chopping, separating, and then slicing the chicken I felt I had enough meat to cook. I had to make a quick run to this one place nearby and as I walked back into the shack I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. Needless to say, it wasn't that pretty looking, but no matter, I tossed the rest of the chicken into the freezer and began to look around for pots and pans. It's truly incredible, some of the stuff people tossed out after the pulse. I found pretty much everything I'd need to make a decent meal after only three piles of junk then headed back for the shack. Scott was still busy in the garage and had no clue what I was up to and I didn't bother to tell him. I figured it'd be sort of a thank you surprise type deal. I even had a plan for the other candleholder so we could have an evening meal with a bit of light.  
  
Scott was certainly surprised too. The food wasn't actually done when he came into the kitchen looking like a dog hot on the trail of his hunt, "What is that smell?" he asked curiously.  
  
I looked up from the sauce I was stirring and smiled, "Dinner."  
  
"Dinner?" he asked dumbly.  
  
I nodded, "Yeah, you know the meal people usually eat in the evening?"  
  
Walking to the oven, Scott looked in the various pots and pans, "What's wrong with the old army food I scrounged?"  
  
"Sparky," I sighed, "Sometimes a girl's gotta have more than old military rations to keep her going. I had a craving so I found a way to cure it."  
  
"A craving? You're not going to start talking about why you're having cravings are you?" Scott asked, backing away and looking at me like I was about to explode.  
  
I shook my head, "Just go grab me the candles out of my bag, okay?" I pointed to the bed, where my bag rested.  
  
"Candles?" Scott asked, "Where did you get those?"  
  
"From the market," I answered, pouring the sauce over my noodles.  
  
"Okay." Scott leaned on a crate, "how did you get candles."  
  
"I traded them for the feather pillow."  
  
"How'd you get a feather pillow?"  
  
"I made it." I answered, a little annoyed.  
  
"How did you make it?"  
  
I looked up at him, "From some old cloth and feathers."  
  
"Feathers?" he asked, "How."  
  
I dropped the wooden spoon I'd been using, "From the chicken, Scott."  
  
"Chicken?" Scott dropped to the crate, "How did...?"  
  
"Do you have those candles yet?" I asked, glancing at my bag, "Not that I'm not loving this game of twenty questions, but I've sort of got a schedule thing going on here."  
  
Shaking his head, Scott stood and walked to my bag, rifling through it a bit. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stove, now scooping out the chicken on top of the pasta and sauce. I turned to ask Scott to drag a crate outside for our table and froze momentarily. He had lifted out an old book from my bag and was looking through the highlighted pages. I quickly dropped the pan onto the stove and moved to snatch the book out of his hand, "Hey!" I cried, holding the book to my chest, "I said candles, not my dictionary!"  
  
Scott furrowed his brow at me, "Your dictionary?"  
  
"Yes." I declared, my eyes meeting Scott's stare, "My dictionary."  
  
"Should I even ask?" he teased.  
  
Walking back to the stove and placing the book on the counter I shrugged, "I like to read it."  
  
"You're kidding me." He continued, "A dictionary? You do know it's just words, right?"  
  
I glared at him, "Yes, Mister Argumentative, I do know it's just words, most books are you anticlimactic ignoramus."  
  
Scott furrowed his brow at me and reached again for my dictionary. Turning a bit I whacked his hand with my wooden spoon, "Get your own dictionary." I growled, "And bring the candles while you're at it."  
  
Scott could only watch me in shock as I grabbed the book and shoved it down my shirt before I picked up the huge bowl of pasta I'd made and walked outside. "And a crate and chairs so we don't have to eat on the ground," I called over my shoulder.  
  
It took Scott a second, but sooner than later, I suppose, he brought out what I'd asked for and I set the food down, "Now, we feast." I grinned, pulling two forks out of my shirt pocket and handing one to Scott. Before he took it out of my hand I moved it away, "Wait a second," I glanced at the table, then at Scott "Where's the candles?"  
  
Grunting, Scott disappeared into the shack then reappeared, three candles in hand. "Here." He mumbled, handing them to me.  
  
"Thank you." I smiled, placing them in the candleholder and then lighting them. "Candlelight dinner?" Scott raised his eyebrows.  
  
I gave Scott an annoyed look before I shoved the fork into his hand, "Technically yes, but only because this is an evening meal and in order to have light we need light which is currently being provided by a few candles. If you'd rather, we can eat in the dark."  
  
Scott plunged his fork into the dish, "Nah, this is fine." Twirling his fork he scooped out a rather large amount and some how managed to insert it all into his mouth. A few seconds later his fork clanged to the table and he made a sort of strangled noise.  
  
"Are you okay?" I glanced up from my own fork to his face.  
  
He swallowed his food and quickly dunked his fork into the pasta again, "Oh my God," he gasped. "This is amazing, Kat."  
  
Taking a bite, I nodded, "Indeed."  
  
After we had both finished off the pan of pasta Scott leaned on the table, "So you read and you cook. Anything else I should know?"  
  
"Oh no." I shook my head, equally leaning on the table, "The only way I am telling something about me is you have to tell the same thing about you. Otherwise I'll just be babbling on about myself."  
  
"Alright." He agreed, "So what else can you do?"  
  
I shrugged, "I honestly don't know. I've been cooking myself meals since I was eleven, and I'm horridly picky, so I had to actually become good at it in order for me to even eat what I would cook."  
  
"And the dictionary?"  
  
"I guess I just like learning." I answered solemnly.  
  
"So the highlighted words are.what?" Scott teased.  
  
"Some of the men that my mom used to have around used some words I didn't know. One day I found a dictionary and looked up a few of them." I admitted, "I hate not knowing what people are talking about. If I don't know about it I won't just blow smoke up someone's ass with my uninformed self."  
  
Scott's eyebrows shot up, "Wow, an intellectual."  
  
"Fuck you," I shot, defensively.  
  
Scott leaned back, "Easy there, cow girl, "I was just kidding."  
  
"It's the only education I've had, I'm a little touchy."  
  
Scott nodded, "So I noticed."  
  
I shifted uncomfortably in the looming silence, "So, what about you?"  
  
"I know cars and I like cars," Scott answered simply. "Not much more to me than that."  
  
"Oh come on," I pushed, "There's got to be a little bit more. No other hobbies or anything?"  
  
Scott looked out past me a while before shaking his head, "Not really. Cars is pretty much all I know and do. Everything else just gets in the way."  
  
"That has got to be the lamest thing I've ever heard." I teased, winking at him, "We've got to add a bit of variety into your life, Sparky." I pulled the dictionary I had previously put down my shirt, "Here," I joked, handing it to him, "Educate yourself."  
  
Scott grinned and pushed it away, "That's okay. Reading's not really my thing." "Let me guess," I dolled, "You'd rather piece a radiator together than open a book?"  
  
Scott nodded, "See, we're getting to know each other better by the second."  
  
"Sure Sparky," I chuckled, "I've learned so much that I never knew before."  
  
Scott sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, "Well, okay, fine. I'm just another guy. I lead a simple life. I enjoy what I do. What more is there?"  
  
"What about fun?" I challenged, "And what about relaxing?"  
  
"I have fun working on cars and it relaxes me," he retorted.  
  
I shook my head, "You sure are an odd one."  
  
"Thank you," he accepted, smiling, "You're not so bad yourself."  
  
Smirking at him I wagged my eyebrows, "You don't even know the half of it, Sparky."  
  
* * * *  
  
Life dramatically slowed down after we finished with Barron's big job and a month or so passed before we had any relatively big jobs again. A few here and there, and Scott was working on something for himself, but over all we were able to work at a relaxed pace and even get some conversation in. Speaking of conversation, Scott told me I was anal. Well, he actually said I was obsessively and compulsively anal. I punched him in the arm and told him he was a grubby prick. He just laughed at me. But what does that moron know? Just because I sort his tools by color and size and type when I've got nothing to do in the garage.Oh shit. He's right. Damn him. But anyway, Scott's been letting me do even more stuff these days. He lets me use tools and what not now too. Apparently I have a natural knack for this sort of stuff. Granted, I came to that conclusion on my own but that's solely based on everything I know Scott would never admit.  
  
He doesn't like to admit a lot of things, as it turns out. The other day he as working on the Mustang again and I was sitting on my designated stool watching him. I got bored so I started to twirl tools with my fingers or drumming them on my knee while tapping my foot. As I was coming to the drum solo in a pre-pulse song Scott growled, "Kat, chill."  
  
"Huh?" I stopped mid drum.  
  
"Stop being so fidgety, can't you just sit there?" he insisted, his voice straining. I shrugged, "Nope, gotta keep moving with the rhythm." I moved my shoulders back and forth, imitating a dance move.  
  
"Well, cut it out. I swear, I've never met a more anal and fidgety person. Do you know how hard it is for me to concentrate when you're bouncing around?" He grumbled.  
  
I held up my middle finger, "It's none of your shit if I'm *bouncing* around the garage, what do you care? Just let me be and mind your own damn business." Scott's jaw clenched and I sighed and dropped the two screwdrivers I'd been playing with, "Sheesh, if it's that big a deal I'll stop."  
  
He nodded curtly, "Thank you." He went back to working on the engine block and I was left just sitting. I started tapping my foot discretely then went for a flat head to mess with, "Kat, don't do it." Scott warned.  
  
My hand was in midair, reaching for the tool, "What?" I asked, my hand flying back to my lap.  
  
"Stop playing with my tools," he reprimanded.  
  
I scrunched up my face, "Stop having fun, Kat. Sit and do nothing while I play all big and macho. No don't move. Just sit totally still." I mocked him in an imitation deep voice.  
  
"Hey," he responded, "If you're really that bored go straighten up the tools again. You seem to think that's fun."  
  
I shook my head, "I just did that. Give me something 'fun' to do."  
  
He grunted, evoking a frustrated sigh from me.  
  
"Fine." I looked around the garage. It was dirty and grimy with some of the bigger tools and various car parts hanging from the walls. It was cozy, despite it's lack of clean. I glanced over at Scott, "So," I started, "How'd you learn to do all this stuff, again?"  
  
"This stuff?" Scott asked blankly.  
  
I motioned around the room, "You know, this stuff." Scott stopped working and looked up at me, "Tools, cars, fixing things, torturing bored women."  
  
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I told you, just a guy I once knew a long time ago."  
  
"Right." I nodded, "And this guy was.who?" I pressed. I had been hoping that after all this time together he might crack a little bit and talk to me. I had made the man dinner, for crying out loud, what else was usually needed?  
  
"No one important." He went back to the engine block.  
  
"Uh-huh." I pressed, even though I knew he didn't really want to talk about it, "So, what were you doing before you ended up here?"  
  
Scott shrugged in reply, "Stuff."  
  
"Stuff?" I asked.  
  
"Yep, just stuff." He answered.  
  
I growled, "Why are you so.so.secretive?" It's not like I've got a ton of people to tell in an LA junkyard. I mean, what? I'm going to go tell the cars? God forbid." I took a breath, "I thought you were starting to get the hang of the normal conversation concept. I say something, you say something. Questions are asked and then answered by the other person. Is that too difficult of a concept to get into your brain?"  
  
Scott looked up at me again, "I already told you I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Why not?" I pushed.  
  
Scott turned around and crosses his arms, "If I don't want to talk about it do you really think I'm going to tell you why I don't want to talk about it? Just accept that my own business is my own business, my past is my past, and is none of your business."  
  
I stood, similarly crossing my arms and glared at him, "Fine. Be secretive and quiet and don't tell me a fucking thing. It's not as if I care anyway, I was just making conversation because somebody won't let me do anything"  
  
"So talk about something else." He glowered, "You knew I don't like talking about my past. I thought I made that clear already."  
  
I lowered my arms slowly, "Okay, I can do that." I sat back on my stool and he turned back to the frame of the car, "So.what do you want to talk about? I mean, what's acceptable?"  
  
He sighed loudly, "If you're so keen on talking, why don't you tell me about your past. You seem to like that topic of conversation."  
  
I raised my eyebrows, "You won't tell me even a small tidbit about your past and you expect me to jus open up and tell you all about my past existence?"  
  
"If you'd rather, you can sit in silence and I can go back to working." He offered.  
  
My shoulders fell, "You realize you're a complete ass."  
  
He smirked at me, "Well, you could."  
  
"No!" I stopped him from any more ingenious ideas, "Shut up. I don't want to hear any of your sentiments, uh, other then on where you think I should start."  
  
"The beginning is always an appropriate choice." He leaned under the hood.  
  
"Thank you Captain Obvious." I rolled my eyes. He growled, I ignored him, "I guess," I began, "My bastard father took off the second he found out I was on the way, leaving me with a mother who resented and blamed me for everything. Apparently it was my entire fault that she fucked up and got herself knocked up.  
  
She was pretty abusive as you can imagine. I knew I had to get away and once I even went to the police, but the pulse had just hit and everything was going crazy. The state of Washington was up in smoke. The cops were more worried about the looting and lynching going on than they were about some little girl with bruises." Scott turned around to look at me as I continued, "Social Services tried to help once too, but their records were completely erased so it was useless. I was only seven and way too young to be on the streets.  
  
Anyway, after the pulse we lost our home. The sector police claimed our building and kicked everyone who didn't have the money to pay them off. She dragged me from alleyway to alleyway after that. Ended up getting herself real screwed up too. Drugs, alcohol, men. She always told me that she was just doing what she had to survive. When I was 11 she figured it was time I earned my keep so she started taking me to some men."  
  
Scott's eyes were wide and his tool fell out of his hand, "She did what?"  
  
I nodded slowly, "She did what she thought we had to do. They were usually nice. They'd tell me I was pretty, tell me I was doing a good thing by letting them touch me. And don't think my mom even cared. She was usually too strung out to know someone was there."  
  
"You know that's not." he trailed off.  
  
"Not what? Right? Decent? Moral?" I searched for him.  
  
"All of the above," he confirmed, "Not to mention illegal."  
  
I shrugged, "The cops didn't care either, hell, half the time it was the cops that were touching me. They weren't about to stop it."  
  
"My god." He muttered, "The sick bastards, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have asked."  
  
"Eh, don't beat yourself up about it. I figure it was going to come out eventually, sooner is better. Later is harder." I noticed Scott's face turn a steely gray but shrugged it off and continued. "It didn't last too long. My mom had disappeared when I was 11 but the guys still kept coming and giving me food and places to live, so I stuck around and did what I had to do. I took off when they started wanting me to have sex with them and started getting mean about it. One of the ones that were really nasty about it, said I owed it to him after not kicking me out of this one room flat in a condemned building, he was high up on the cop food chain. Turned out I was pretty wicked with a blade and he ended up with a bunch of stitches in the face. The cops were pissed to say the least and I took off and they ended up chasing me clear across the state to the Oregon border. It was there I hitched a ride into California. It was a nice family. Nice car. I can't believe they even let me in. I was dirty, grubby, and probably smelled like the sewers. I think they were going to give me to social services, but I split on them at a rest stop. No way I was going to let cops get their hands on me again."  
  
"Wow." Scott said, "That's.crazy. How can you be so nonchalant about it?"  
  
"Well what do you want me to do?" I snapped, "You want me to cry about it? To her doped up, crack whore of a brain my mother thought it was the best. I know it wasn't, but what good would it do to hold it against her? She's probably dead now, anyway." I took a breath and shrugged it off, "And besides, now I'm here and safe, right? I mean, as long as the cops are still cops. You show 'em a little something and you're in. Nothing to worry about"  
  
"No." Scott admonished, "No one should have to live with that, I'm sorry."  
  
I shook my head and waved off his comment, "Don't be. It's made me who I am today."  
  
Scott was silent for a moment before he looked at me and smiled slightly, "Oh yeah? And who are you today?"  
  
I stood and jutted a hip out, "One hell of a wild ride, baby." Scott's face reddened a bit and I winked at him, "You really need to lighten up, Sparky."  
  
Scott was quiet for a second, "I can't afford to lighten up, Kat." He admitted.  
  
The smirk left my face, "Why not?"  
  
"I just can't," He murmured, "And didn't I already say I didn't want to talk about it?"  
  
I shrugged "You brought it up, Scott. Besides, everyone's entitled to have fun every now and then."  
  
"Not when you can end up dead because of it." He returned.  
  
"Dead?" My brow furrowed, "Now you're just exaggerating to get me off your back."  
  
I sat back down on my stool and barely heard Scott mutter, "Right." I don't think he meant to actually say anything he had let out, but I made it a point not to ask him about his past again. 


	4. Chapter 4

My foot tapped a steady beat on the garage floor as I begin to drift off in my mind. We'd been in the garage almost all day and darkness was approaching. I could tell because of a rather large crack in one of the walls. Lately it felt as if all Scott and I did is work on cars. We'd get up, have a bit of breakfast - normally some bread and meat we managed to snatch - and then make our way to the garage. I thought we might have a little R & R time after completing that last big job, but no, it was right back to the regular-sized ones.  
  
My mouth hung open and time seemingly slowed as Scott continued working. I was so sick of the garage I would have done anything to get out of there. Maybe if I offered Scott sex he'd stop.  
  
My eyes drooped closed then opened. Damn, he didn't show any sign of stopping. My left elbow was propped up on my thigh, my chin resting in my palm. I sighed, "Scott, can we please be done for today?"  
  
He mumbled something unintelligible. "What?" I asked then reconsidered, "No, don't tell me, let me guess: 'I'm almost finished.'"  
  
There came no reply. "Scott," I complained, "It's getting dark, let's go do something for once instead of staying in here."  
  
"Your enthusiasm is exhausting," he grumbled.  
  
"Your enthusiasm is exhausting." I mimicked in a screechy voice. "Come on Scott, let go and let live! Let's go do something for once!"  
  
"You can go and do whatever you want," he retorted.  
  
I blinked. Why hadn't I thought of that? "Really?"  
  
"Well, yeah," Scott answered. "I'm not holding you here, am I?"  
  
I shook my head, "No, but I don't want to bail if you've got more stuff for me to do."  
  
"Doesn't matter to me," he mumbled.  
  
"Fine." I stood. "I'm going out, I'm way too bored and way too sick of tools and junk and car parts."  
  
Scott sighed, "I didn't hear you complaining before."  
  
"Well, I wasn't tired of it before."  
  
"Stop whining," he growled.  
  
I glared at him, "I do *not* whine."  
  
"Good, then go not whine somewhere else. Make me dinner or something."  
  
"What am I your cook?" I argued. "No, that's right. I'm just your *assistant*."  
  
Scott looked over at me. "Are you still here?"  
  
"What's up your ass?" I snapped. "Sorry I'm not as obsessive about fixing up cars as you are, but I need to do something else before my brain implodes."  
  
Scott grunted in reply.  
  
"Oh my god!" I shouted. "Don't you ever do anything but grunt? For crying out loud, Scott! Would you respond for once in your life?"  
  
"No one is forcing you to stay here, Kat," Scott responded coolly. "If you don't like it, you can find somewhere else to stay. It's not like I'm a big fan of your constant moving and babbling on like you've actually got something to add to the conversation."  
  
I blinked. "Fuck you, Scott." For some reason the fact that he could be so cool about it made me even more upset. Who was he to be berating me?  
  
"I don't have time for that, Kat," he retorted. "I've got to work on my cars, remember?"  
  
Slamming a tool down, I stood. "Fine, I'll see you whenever," I growled and stormed out of the garage, furiously muttering and cursing Scott, not caring where I ended up and not caring who I ended up with.  
  
* * *  
  
I ended up at a rave. I hadn't meant to go to a rave, but who cares. It's where I ended up and it was just what I needed. In all honesty, I went in because some guy I passed after I stormed out of the junkyard told me about the rave to go to if you wanted to have fun. The sad part was that he could tell I needed to have 'fun' as he called it. He told me that it was supposed to have a little something for everyone. I wouldn't have minded a little something-something right then either. I was way too angry and Scott hadn't helping anything. Scott was just...Scott. It was cool hanging around and all, but the Mr. Obsession and Secrets thing was getting really old really quick. I needed to be with people that would party and smile and laugh at my obsession with separating tools rather than Scott giving me that "you idiot" look and going back under the hood. I needed to be around normal people.  
  
As soon as I walked in, I knew without a doubt that my friend on the sidewalk was right and I was tempted to over him a little peak at my goodies in thanks. He was my hero for the moment. Lights flashed in quick movements to the blasting music, tattooing all of the people with patterns that twisted and turned in the same way their bodies were. Everything was hot, steaming in the LA summer. Clothes were scanty at best and sweat- slicked bodies gyrated together in a warm-up of the main activities yet to come.  
  
Something for everyone? The guy was not kidding. One coved area had the stoners lining the floor, passing bongs around companionably or prepping their needles. Not my place, but hey, to each his own, you know?  
  
I sauntered over to the bar and got a drink, wanting to soak in the place before jumping into it. I felt like there was a mass membrane around the party and I had to ooze into it or else I would just bounce off. Weird, yeah, I know, but it gave me time to get a drink and get checked out a few times. And I was getting checked out. Couldn't blame any of them though. I had to admit that I looked hot in my baby-t and shorts. It was so sticky in there that everything was clingy and all it would take was a glance and a smile and any man in the room would be mine.  
  
I sat at the bar and twirled a straw between my fingers waiting for my drink and glancing around again. Unfortunately, the first person that happened to talk to me was some slimy looking guy who asked if he could buy me a drink. He reminded me of the guys that used to go around with my mom or would slip a little something extra into a girls drink. It took all my power not to sneer at him, but I knew that wouldn't be effective. He wasn't the type I could just blow off. He was easily three times my size and already had that drunk and interested look.  
  
"Got one already," I replied, sipping my drink that had come not moments before.  
  
"Why don't you put that down and we get out there," he grinned slickly, indicating the dance floor.  
  
Sure fire way to get rid of a guy. "I'm meeting someone," I replied. "You seen Rachel around here?"  
  
He blinked thoughtfully and I cringed. The first thought of a guy is always threesome when faced with that question and this guy was no different. But he would say no and I could hop up and say that I had to find her before I could get anything on with a guy. So his thoughts would hit total "Dear Penthouse" levels and we'd call it good. But to my surprise he glanced around with an inebriated sway and replied, "Yeah. C'mon, I'll show you where she is."  
  
It was a good thing the lights flashed a dark color as he dragged me behind him to hide the look of horror on my face. Damn. What were the odds? I had to start picking a better name to use like Taramina or something really unusual like that. Nonetheless, when he turned and motioned to where Rachel was sitting I smiled in mock appreciation. He pointed to a girl who was sitting in the midst of a small crowd. Well, she wasn't so much sitting at this little table surrounded by blow-up chairs as she was holding court, surrounded by her admirers, all of them, male and female alike just hoping they would be the lucky one she invited home that night. She was tall with black hair tipped in silver streaming down her back and over her shoulders. I had never been one for the all girl-team, but damn. Talk about hot. She was wearing this black satin bra thing with this micro-mini skirt and long black shiny boots.  
  
"Hey, Rach, found a friend of yours," the guy said.  
  
Rachel said later that she could see from the look on my face that this was an "out" that went bad. She said she should have felt bad for taking advantage, but she didn't care. I was worth it.  
  
Rachel jumped up from where she was lounging like a cat, a big smile plastered on her face. "Hey, baby!" she called and then grabbed me and pulled me to her, pressing her full lips against mine. Her hands caressed my face as her skillful mouth coaxed mine open, her tongue seeking mine and not letting go.  
  
She was the one that ended the kiss. I was in way too much of a daze to do anything but gape. Her hand caught mine and she plopped back in her seat, pulling me down with her so that I was in her lap. A few whoops of glee and a few groans of jealously went up from the crowd. She grinned and turned towards the guy. "Ray, you didn't try making a move on my girl?" she asked warningly, her soft hands running up my arm and back.  
  
He visibly paled. "No....course not," he stuttered, backing away and unconsciously moving his hands to cover his crotch area, "Just letting her know where you were."  
  
She smiled. "That's good because I would hate to have to remind you again."  
  
He took two steps back and then disappeared into the crowd.  
  
I don't remember anything else about that night, really. Rachel was great, she accepted me instantly and I ended up spending the night hanging out with her and her posse all night. Details of the night though, I figured more of those out the morning after.  
  
My head hurt when I woke. It wasn't pounding, only a dull ache, but still, as I slid out of my bed it felt like the ache in my head ran down through my mouth and to my chest. I opened my eyes slowly and shielded the sun from them with my hand, as I walked to the sink. Water. I needed water. I grabbed a chipped glass from one of the makeshift cupboards next to the sink. I had just turned to the sink when Scott walked through the door and mumbled what sounded like a hello as he glanced at me, then did a double take and froze.  
  
His eyes roamed over my body then focused on my chest. I groaned and turned away shaking my head. I was still in my pajamas but it wasn't as if they really skimpy. A sports bra and boxer shorts and he was looking at me like I was wearing see-through underwear with a matching top. A fleeting memory of Rach in exactly that drifted across my mind and I couldn't blame Scott anymore. No wonder guys stared.  
  
I took a drink of water and savored the feel on my dry and sore tongue. I could still feel Scott's incredulous gaze. He was really overreacting here. "What?" I snapped. The moment I spoke, the dull ache in my mouth became a sharp lance of pain.  
  
Suddenly my hand flew to my mouth as I dashed to the mirror and stuck my tongue out. "Holy Shit" I squeaked then shut my mouth, wondering what exactly went on the night before.  
  
"What?" Scott asked, looking a bit frazzled. I turned towards Scott and stuck out my tongue.  
  
"Oh," he acknowledged, softly, "You got your tongue pierced."  
  
I shook my head, then realized the bad choice there and froze, my hand instinctively landing on my forehead as I waited for the world around me to stop moving. I glanced at Scott pathetically. I was tired, hung over, my chest was on fire, and my tongue was pierced. "What did I do last night?" I asked pitifully, careful not to use my tongue too much.  
  
"How should I know?" he shrugged, "You ran out saying something about getting out and doing something. I didn't even know you were back."  
  
I groaned as I made my way to the bed. Scott moved next to me and put my arm around his shoulders and his arm around my waist, helping me. "Thanks," I smiled softly and then tried to maneuver myself to fall back onto the bed. Scott apparently wasn't ready for the shift because he ended up following me down and on top of me, his arm still around my waist and mine around his neck. My eyes opened and locked with his as we stayed frozen inches apart in that position for a moment before my chest felt like it was on fire. "Oww, Scott," I growled, pushing him away.  
  
Shaking his head he mumbled an apology and pushed himself off of me. Before he was completely up I noticed his eyes linger on my chest again, "Oh my gosh, Scott," I snapped. "If you want to see them so bad I'll just show them to you."  
  
"No," he answered, his eyes still on my chest. "Just wondering if you'd always had that." He lightly touched the skin below my right breast with his fingertips.  
  
I looked where his hand had landed and my eyes almost popped out of my head; again I got up to look in the mirror. "What the hell did I do last night?" I cried upon seeing a fresh tattoo of a rather attractive girl that resembled Rachel who was wearing an unbuttoned button-up white shirt, sitting on a stool and gratifying herself sexually. "What the hell did she do to me?"  
  
Scott sat on the bed. "I'm getting a bit curious about that myself."  
  
I moved from in front of the mirror back to the bed and sat next to Scott, "I remember the party, and lots of dancing, and drinking and." I broke off as a small smirk touched the corners of my mouth. ".And?" Scott questioned.  
  
I looked over at him, "And Rachel." Scott looked confused so I elaborated, "She saved me from some grease-ball guy that wanted to hook up with me. We ended up having a blast with each other."  
  
"You came home with a pierced tongue and an erotic tattoo. This is a blast where you come from?" Scott shook his head.  
  
I shrugged, "I don't remember either getting the tongue ring or the tattoo, but before that.I remember Rachel, and trust me, Sparky. " I smirked and licked my lips, "She's got my attitude and she tastes like cherries."  
  
Scott blinked, "How.why.what?"  
  
"Kissing, touching and sex." I added, "I remember those three things too."  
  
Scott's mouth hung open, and I just nodded, "Rachel's quite a wild ride. Really a team player too. You'd like her." I nudged him slightly then went to go get more water.  
  
Again, I could feel Scott's eyes on me, but instead of griping about it I went with it and added a satisfied swagger to my walk. Sure I was in hang- over city, with a tattoo and a pierced tongue, but I'd had a hell of a night that didn't consist of working on cars. That was good for me. I'd never really been one for girl on girl action, but throughout the day when the memories of what Rachel and I had done, more so what Rachel had done to me, I was willing to sign up and never look back. I'd had a lot of experiences with guys and all of them I had hated. But with Rachel, it was a whole world I didn't know. A whole world I didn't know but was more than willing to figure out. 


	5. Chapter 5

I'm still proud to say that the rave I met Rachel at was not the last party that I was more than happy to attend. My life became cars and Scott during the day time and Rachel and drinking and dancing and more of Rachel during the night time. Sleep? That's what you did after fooling around with Rachel. And I was starting to really like the Rachel part of my life. She was the first one I connected with, other than Scott on the sparse occasions when he wasn't in the mood to be a car-obsessed jerk. And she had a way of making me feel as no other human had ever been able too. I forgot how crappy life had been when I was with her and could only think of fun and excitement and laughter while we were together. Not to mention that she was hot. As were the parties, the raves, and everything else I can't remember. All I know is that whatever it was, it was hot and I'm not talking just temperature here, although that was hitting triple digits as well.  
  
Rachel had been telling me how at the end of the summer her crew did this 24/7 party thing where they just went from rave to rave, following the parties around until everyone collapsed from exhaustion. She said last time she made it six days and then passed out. Woke up in an alley wearing newspaper and Mardis Gras beads. Since the tongue and tattoo incident I was more into remembering what happened the night before, but still, when Rach turned those sparkling eyes on me and grinned, promising me a good time, who was I to resist?  
  
I asked her why the hell we should wait for summer to end before we took on the night life of Post-Pulse LA. She thought it was an excellent idea. My only problem was being able to get away from work. I'm sure Scott would have just grunted and not cared if I disappeared for days on end, but I'd had people bail on me before and I wasn't going to be like that. Hitting a bunch of parties was all well and good, but I'm still not about disappearing without warning. And no matter how much those eyes of Rachel's shone, I couldn't bring myself to do anything of the sort. Scott wouldn't have said anything about it, but we got in several decent-sized projects and I wasn't leaving him to do all of the work. I was improving by leaps and bounds to the point where I was thinking about taking on a total restoration all on my own. If I took off, Scott's job would become a hundred times harder to meet the deadlines.  
  
But sooner than later it was hitting the end of summer and business was slowing around the garage. I could feel the itch to hit the party scene for days on end from all the work Scott and I had been busy with for the summer, not to mention the fact that Scott was good for conversation only if an exhaust system needed to be welded together. Maybe it was just comparison, but I would have sworn he had been talking less and grunting more since Rach and I hooked up. It was a good thing we had a rhythm down in the garage since we had most communication down to unintelligible noises and pointing. I almost killed him one day when I realized that I had made a noise close to a grunt and he handed me the 9/16 ratchet which was what I had wanted. I was becoming like him. Had to get out of there. But he wasn't coming out from under the hood for anything.  
  
The funk was bugging me, even if I wasn't letting it show. So much so that I even tried cooking once. That wound up being a bad move. We sat mostly in silence and what little conversation we mustered surrounded the fabulous topic of cars and a project that was winding to a close. Let me tell you, it wasn't worth flashing the one guy to get some more candles. It wouldn't have been worth it to spit on the guy. He might have liked that just as much though. The most interesting part was when Scott mentioned that the buyer wanted the car delivered to him in San Diego.  
  
I almost suggested that I could follow him there and then we could drive back, but that idea passed quickly when I thought about us driving back for hours in dead silence. Even if I brought Rachel along it wouldn't be worth Scott sitting in the back sulking and scowling and killing the whole fun of a road trip. Well, in reality, the second the radio got cranked up and junk food got ripped open and flew all over the place, he would insist on driving with everyone face forward, hands in their own laps the rest of the way. That quickly ended my desire to offer to drive along. So he decided he'd contact Mr. T.A. Barron and see if he could arrange a ride back somehow since he figured that Barron owed him a few favors. Barron agreed since his new mistress didn't like the color of her car and Scott could take care of that quickly while he was there, everything being provided of course, and Scott got to ride back in a sleek black limo. What a waste. Bet he wouldn't think about draining the bar and having six of his friends come along to make it worthwhile.  
  
The minute my attempt at reinstating conversation between Scott and I, otherwise known as dinner, was over I ran to find Rachel and give her the good news. As Scott drove away, me and Rachel's "Party Till You Drop" plans were put into effect. We hit the party trail and kept on keeping on. She said it was wild in the past while filling me in on details of how it loud and fast it was and there was nothing but drinking, dancing, and booty day after day after day. If anything, she downplayed it. Seriously, it was...there are no words to even describe it. It was really that intense.  
  
We hit the first party within an hour of Scott hitting the road. I knew I was in for it full time and full throttle when someone handed me a drink on the way to the dance floor. This was completely foreign from the other parties and raves. There was no easing into these. You just jumped headfirst and hoped there was still water in the pool or that there was someone out there that would catch you. The part of me that was so repressed while in the garage with Scott was forgotten and everything underneath shone like a bright flame. It was great.  
  
The lights flashed, music blasted all around the half-naked, and sometimes fully naked bodies that turned and twisted against each other. I might have been dancing with one person or ten, I didn't know. It was the blow out of all blow outs. Everyone was there too, all of the summer punks, the gothic gangs, and even the preppy kids going to college or whatever mommy and daddy were paying for during the rest of the year were there, determined to fit the next nine months of having to be restrained into one wild week. What losers. I got the party this week and I would get the next one the next weekend.  
  
Each party melted into the other, hours and minutes lost meaning. It was almost as if time ceased to mean anything. It felt like that first big project for Mr. Barron that Scott and I did where I was so focused on something that nothing else mattered. Except this time it was nothing but fun, partying and sex. Oh, and there wasn't that pesky little worry that hit men would be sent if we selected the wrong color for the floor mats. In the whole week, there was exactly one serious moment. Drugs were flowing all over the place, and as much as everyone said it was great and I had to try sniffing this or smoking that, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Bad memories or something. Rach and I had crashed in this chair and a guy offered her a hit of something. She went to take it and I jumped up and told her that if she was going to do that, I was out. She almost laughed and then realized I was dead serious. She shrugged and handed it back, saying she wasn't going to miss out on having me for a whole week for something she could do without. Then she licked her lips and said she knew a better way to get high and pulled me back in her lap. Fifteen minutes later, it was my drug of choice as well.  
  
Except for that moment, the week was one huge party beyond anything I'd ever experienced. I know we started out late in the morning and staggered over to some other building when it was night. What night, I never knew. I ended up crashing on a couch in the back for a while close to dawn and woke up to find Rachel and some guy leaning over my back. Rach had drawn a tic- tac-toe board on my back and was playing with the guy. Once she saw that I was up, tic-tac-toe was forgotten and we hit the scene again. A blur of music and bodies and dancing comes to mind. Although, I know that Rachel took a nap at some point under a table. And that I only know because I was dancing on top of it and then dove off and everyone landed on the floor, laughing and howling. When I glanced over I saw her curled up and went to check to see if she was okay. She woke up a few minutes later and decided we were going to jet out of the place. Then we were at some guy's apartment until the stoners crashed it and a herd of us then went over to some chick's house. That was the time the cops showed up. I'm not sure why they showed up, maybe it was the music, maybe it was someone who called and asked about the two girls whooping, dancing, and having sex on the roof. Anyway the cops came, Rachel and I got down off of the roof , and then we were back at another club.  
  
And booty? The roof thing didn't even touch on that part of the experience. Rachel had promised. And oh, did Rachel deliver. Before we were even on the dance floor at the first club she was all over me, feeling me up and grinding into me as we made our way to the floor. Next thing I knew, we were in a stall in the bathroom, going at it for all we were worth. You wouldn't think there was enough maneuvering room in one of those things, but trust me, there's plenty. We made out in a recliner at the apartment and desecrated this rug that had a crucifix painted on it at the house.  
  
Basically if we weren't dancing or laughing we were having sex or making out. Sometimes there were people watching, sometimes we were alone, sometimes we added a guy into the mix, sometimes we added a girl into the mix. We were too much on a party high to care. One time Rachel wasn't even there. Well, it had been at her urging that I fool around with the guy I ended up with. She said he was the best guy she'd ever been with and let me tell you, she was not kidding. Looking back, he had to have been a gynecologist or something, because when he got his hands down my pants, his knowledge of the female anatomy was way more than your average guy. And this guy had lips on him like I'd never known. If I had to compare him to Rachel? I still don't know who would win. I didn't think anyone could compete with Rach in that department either, but there was a lot I had left to learn that week.  
  
Then later, I think it was at the other club, Rachel and I had gone into a feeling frenzy and we actually didn't make it to a stall. I was leaning back on my hands, ass on a counter as Rach was doing things to me that I didn't know a human being could do. Suddenly, I was being kissed in two places at once. My eyes shot open because I knew that it wasn't Rachel's tongue that had just entered my mouth, she was busy elsewhere and I don't care how talented that girl is, she can't be two places at once. Turned out this totally hot chick had decided to get in on the action. At one of my cries Rach looked up at me and then to hot chick, grinned wickedly, and promptly got back to what she had been doing oh so well. I think she offered hot chick a hand as well. I could have tried protesting, but I was too drunk on pleasure to care anymore. Wild rides and good times. Too bad hot chick disappeared after that. I learned an important lesson from her. God made a mistake in only giving us two hands. Four work so much better.  
  
Anyway, after sleeping everything off, yes actually sleeping, we got up and went to another club and put on a slight show there. We would dance and do little strip teases with each other that everyone was whooping and cheering on. On the last day we were both wiped but we were also both getting back in the mood. The strip tease was moving quickly to a porn show at this other club, but something happened and the place was suddenly being closed. I caught a whiff of whatever the something was and agreed that it was time to go. A sewage pipe had bust and we had to get out of there before we were dancing in vomit and shit. We had done a lot of kinky things that week, but dude, there are limits. I yanked her out of the club and we practically fell out of the door, kissing passionately until a cop tapped me on the shoulder and said to get a room. Or let him watch.  
  
He looked like a big greasy doughnut and despite that I might have let him, but that would have killed the mood faster than the raw sewage inside. I caught a street sign and muttered that we were close to my place and Scott still wasn't due back for a day or so. Rachel stood up hand in hand we took off running.  
  
I didn't think we were going to make it before we got to the shack. We were kissing, grabbing, and pulling at what little clothing remained as soon as we were inside of the junkyard. It was a good thing that there wasn't a customer waiting or else he would have gotten the show of a lifetime. We flew through the door of the little shack, landing on the bed. It may not have been in the midst of a party, but hell, two can have as much fun as twenty or thirty or forty or fifty or, well, you get the point.  
  
In my opinion we had the best sex of our entire relationship that night. Partly because we were both still sober and could remember it. It was all lips, teeth, tongue, and skin. It seemed like we had sex that night almost as hard as we'd partied the entire week. After countless hours of pleasure she and I both passed out from exhaustion.  
  
I woke up to light shining in my face and rather orgasmic feelings running through my body. Rachel was at it again and I was in no position to object. Her hands ran over my body as her tongue explored inside of me. I flipped us so that I was straddling her before she could finish the job and sat up, giving her a full view of m chest. I grinned down at her and she leaned up and our lips met in a flash of passion. Erotic, sweet, and dark all in one. Her mouth descended to my neck before she let up a bit. "Hello Scott." She purred.  
  
My body stiffened at his name. I had pushed all thoughts of him and the garage as far away as I could that week and when I turned my head around and saw the look on his face mixed with the exhaustion of travel, all of the reasons I'd pushed him out of my mind came back.  
  
"You joining or going?" Rachel asked, her hands running up and down my naked back, kissing my neck softly.  
  
I looked down a moment and then stared into Scott's eyes, "Join the fun or get out." I went back to focusing on Rachel after that. It bugged me that Scott had seen us, and I didn't get that. I mean, Rachel and I had fucked each other with a whole crowd watching and that didn't bother me. But Scott. Whatever. Rachel knew that I was distracted even though we kept going.  
  
She was sweet about it though. After we fooled around more than a handful of times that day she got out, got dressed, gave me a soft kiss good-bye and left me to sleep off a weeks worth of sleep deprivation. 


	6. Chapter 6

I've noticed over the last past few months that life seems to fall into a routine, specifically my own life. And for someone who hates routine and thrives on spontaneity, it's quite disconcerting. I mean, seriously days and weeks pass and it feels like hours. And to better things, Scott and mines relationship wasn't getting better in the midst of life flying at a million miles a minute. Grunts were our preferred communication of choice. I was too peeved to care about it too. The fact that he walked in on Rachel and I nagged at me in the back of my head and I found myself having to shake off the look he gave me when I walked into the garage after Rachel left that day. It wasn't anger, more so disappointment. I dunno, maybe I'm just fooling myself. Anyway, where was I? Oh, time flying. Yes, well somehow in the midst of it a couple months passed and the next thing I knew Rachel showed up at my place with a duffle bag full of brightly colored clothing.  
  
Scott and I were in our rightful places in the garage when she walked in, announcing that it was Halloween and that I hadn't been out of the garage for more than a week so she was taking me out on the town. Scott gave his usual disapproving look and grunt while I walked out of the garage, or rather was pulled out of the garage.  
  
I shook my head and looked back towards the garage, "If he wasn't here I'd offer sex right now in thanks." Sighing I un-kinked my neck.  
  
"Not a problem, babe." Rachel put an arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek,"You needed rescuing. I could hear your cries for miles."  
  
"Miles, huh?" I nudged her and looked to the bag, "So, what'd you bring me?" She shook her head, "Clothes off and this on." Reaching into the bag she handed me two rather small pieces of red clothing.  
  
Holding them out I surveyed what I could only figure was a red mini-skirt and some sort of shirt, "And I would be doing this why?"  
  
"Costume party, you're my date. Oh here, these too." She handed me a pair of red fishnet stockings.  
  
"Wait wait wait." I help up the costume, "And I'm going as what? A red.thing?"  
  
"Also known as a she-devil." She offered.  
  
Looking over the clothes again I sighed, "And I have to wear the skirt?"  
  
"Aw," Rachel ran a hand under my shirt and over my stomach, causing me to suck in a breath, "If you do, it makes for easier access." Slowly she slid her hands to the waistband of my pants and begun to undo the button and zipper, "Much easier access."  
  
"Now now." My hand caught hers and pulled it away, "Save the good stuff for later. I'll wear it. Even if I don't want to. When is this party anyway?"  
  
Rachel rummaged through the bag again before she looked up, "I don't really know, midnight or something?"  
  
I looked outside, "You do realize that means we've got quite a bit of time, right?"  
  
"Time that will be well spent. We've got work to do." She answered, rifling through the bag again.  
  
"What are you digging for?" I finally asked.  
  
Smiling she pulled out a small box, "This!"  
  
My brow furrowed, "That?"  
  
"Yes," she nodded, "We are dying your hair."  
  
"What's wrong with my hair?" I argued. "I like my hair."  
  
"So do I, but for tonight, you're going to have hair that matches your costume." Rachel shot back. "We got to dye your hair first. I'm not going to risk messing up what I have in mind to cover your sweet ass."  
  
"Well, wait, what's your costume?" I admit it, I was stalling. I was not looking forward to fishnets and a mini-skirt. I could already feel the fabric that would most likely end up in my ass crack because it was so tight.  
  
Rachel's grin widened. "I am going to go as the innocent catholic school girl which you get to corrupt and chase with your pitchfork."  
  
"I have a pitchfork too?" at that Rachel presented me with a bright red plastic pitchfork. "Oh god," I groaned, "You're serious?" she responded with a nod to which I groaned again and pulled my shirt off to change, "You owe me big." Had I noticed then that the skirt had a red tail attached to it, I might have called the whole thing off right then and there.  
  
"Oh, I've arranged a nice way of payment, don't you worry." I swear her eyes practically lit up.  
  
A bucket of water - which we will not discuss where or how Rach managed to get - and a bottle of hair dye later I glanced at myself in the mirror. The deep red swirls mixed in with my almost black hair matched the outfit perfectly And I have to say, once I got the whole costume on, I didn't look too bad in the mini-skirt.  
  
"Shit," I looked myself up and down, "What am I going to do for shoes?"  
  
Rachel smirked and help up a pair of shimmering, red stiletto heeled boots with zippers on the sides of them, "These should do."  
  
"Oh hell no." I shook my head, "I am not wearing those. Kat does not do heels. Kat falls over in heels."  
  
"Kat will have to deal with it because this is all I brought." Rachel retorted, handing me the boots. "Besides, if you wear the boots and fall down, well then you'll spend the whole night on your back," she added, licking her lips suggestively.  
  
"Rachel" I said forcefully, "As tempting as that is, I refuse to wear those. You're lucky you got me into the damn skirt."  
  
Smirking, Rachel sided up to me, running a hand from my torso to chin, "Please, for me?"  
  
"No," I argued.  
  
"You know I'll make it worth it." She pressed up against me.  
  
Shaking my head I stepped back, "No, no, and no. This is how you got me into the damn skirt. And you already owe me big on that one. Besides, tonight you're my bitch. Remember?" I looked at my outfit then looked meaningfully at her, "So I get to make all the decisions. And I say no."  
  
"How am I supposed to argue with that?" Rachel's smirk never left her face as she turned to the bag she'd brought, "I actually figured you'd kick and scream before wearing those, so I brought an alternative." Rachel leaned over the bag reaching in and wiggling her ass in my direction a bit. I smirked, that girl knew exactly what she was doing. She was going to put up a fight about me being the decision maker tonight, even if I was supposed to be in charge. And if she kept that up, I was so going to lose. "Here we go." She announced, turning and presenting me with a pair of red and black skater shoes.  
  
"Nice." I grinned, "These are definitely more my style."  
  
"Yes, well, I figure I either got the skirt or the shoes out of this occasion, and there's no way I'm going to pass up your ass in that mini- skirt for a pair of boots."  
  
I smirked and took the shoes, "I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
"Please do." She answered, looking me over and licking her lips.  
  
I winked back and examined the clothes she held up as her costume, "This may end up being a fun party after all. Especially since Mr. All-work-and- no-fun will be absent."  
  
I realized a few seconds too late, or maybe it was a few words too late, that Scott had just walked in from the garage. Now, there are a couple things I could elaborate on here. The look on his face at seeing me dressed up, and in a mini-skirt no less, or the other look that seemed either jealous or disappointed, I'm not quite sure which. Either way, he shot me a glare that made me want to go stand in the corner for what I had said. Thankfully Rachel came to my rescue.  
  
"Well, we could always bring him along. I don't think he'll have to worry about anyone else dressing like a grubby mechanic."  
  
I sighed, some rescue. I looked at Scott warily, "You're not interested in this party, are you?"  
  
"Well,' He started, rubbing his chin, "business is slow tonight. And the chances of some spur of the moment work needing to be done is low. And I did get this sharp suit a while back when one of my big clients wanted me to have a real meeting at his office.  
  
Rachel and I could only stare at him, our mouths agape.  
  
"What?" He asked, shrugging uncomfortably. "I get out every now and then."  
  
"Sweetie," Rachel walked over to him and rested a hand on his arm, "Once every few months is not every now and then. Face it, you are a typical cave man in your own little hole."  
  
I have to say, I was impressed. Scott was now determined to go to the party. He had just been duped and he didn't even know it. He seemed determined to prove Rachel wrong today, and hey, who was I to object if it meant getting him out of the garage and into a social setting. I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen him talk to someone for non-business reasons. "Rach," I sighed and pulled her away from Scott. On the other hand, I didn't know if I wanted him watching me all night and giving me that look of disapproval. "Leave him be and go get yourself dressed. We're going to be late."  
  
Rachel gave a laugh. "Hardly. We are the party, baby."  
  
I gave a dry smile and nodded towards the garage. "Just go."  
  
"Fine fine." She called, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, "But if clothes start to come off, you better call me or else I'll be severely disappointed, Scott."  
  
I glanced at Scott, his jaw was clenched. Great. He's not even out of the house yet and he's already about to snap. "Look." I crossed my arms over my chest, "You don't have to go. I know how she can be. Don't let her get to you."  
  
"Thank you for giving me your permission," Scott snapped, raising an eyebrow, "You going to hold my hand while we're crossing the street too?"  
  
"Hey!" I defended, 'I was just saying."  
  
"Well don't say." Scott cut me off. "If I want to go, I'll go."  
  
I raised my hands giving up, "Fine, we're leaving in a couple hours, so if you're coming, be ready."  
  
Scott nodded curtly, "We'll see."  
  
Shaking my head I muttered curses while entering the garage to see how Rachel was coming. And, I might add, she seemed to be doing quite well. I mean, I never would have thought that someone could make a gray toned catholic outfit look sexy, but she had managed to pull it off. The outfit was complete, with the gray, white, and black pleated, plaid skirt, a button up shirt with a gray sports jacket, and knee high black socks with matching shoes. I gave a low whistle as she finished pulling her hair up into pig tales on either side of her head. "Well, I like what you've done with it."  
  
Batting her eyelashes she sided up to me, "I do it all for you, girl." She twirled around, making the short skirt flare up and, I realized, she wasn't wearing anything under the skirt or under the thin white shirt.  
  
"And you should." I teased, slowly running my hand up her button up blouse; "you should dress up for me more often."  
  
Her head cocked to the side and her eyes shone at the suggestion, "Just wait till I show you my little nursing outfit."  
  
I smiled and glanced at her mouth. Her lips were close to mine, practically taunting me with their presence. So I did what anyone would have done in my situation. I kissed her. And it was a damn good kiss. We were both charged and the party hadn't even started. I was more than ready to get out of the garage, and Rachel was, well Rachel. Always up for some fun. I'm not sure if it was good or bad that Scott walked in, cleared his throat, and then cleared his throat louder, causing Rachel and I to break from our trance and turn to him.  
  
"Yes?" Rachel asked, slightly annoyed.  
  
Scott looked at me, my eyes moving away so I didn't have to make direct contact with his. Don't ask me, but it was odd. I didn't like it when he walked in on Rachel and I. Call me weird, but it made me feel uncomfortable. As if he was my parent walking in or something.  
  
"Well.' He started, giving up on getting me to look at him, "I need some help." He paused and sounded miserably uncomfortable. "If Rachel wouldn't mind giving me a hand."  
  
My eyes quickly darted his way before darting back to the wall. He needed help? From *my* girlfriend? Oh, this was going to be good.  
  
Rachel simply beamed, "And how can I be of service?"  
  
Scott shifted uncomfortably, and tried to catch my eye again. Giving up on the invisible spot on the wall I looked at him, "What?"  
  
He nodded towards the doorway, "Do you mind?"  
  
I couldn't believe it. He had the nerve to ask me to leave? "Yes I mind." I snapped before turning and leaving, "But just because I mind doesn't mean I can't take a hint."  
  
"Sugar?" Rachel called in the middle of my rant. I looked over my shoulder, my eyebrows high in question. She tossed me the bag, "In the side pocket, there's a little surprise for you."  
  
"Alright." I nodded turning to go, "I'll be outside. By myself." I didn't know why Scott needed Rachel's help, and I didn't want to know. We were having a perfectly good moment before he came in. He just had to ruin everything, didn't he? I sighed, tossing the bag onto the bed before grabbing the empty hair dye box and tossing it next to the bag. I paced the floor a couple times before I sighed and began searching through the side pocket. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I knew the second I found it. I smiled, and opened the small package. It was a new barbell for my tongue piercing. It shone a metallic red and the little balls on the ends were supposed to flash red when they were screwed on tight. I was decked out in red, and knew I was going to be a sight to see. Part of me hoped Scott would come just so he could join the crowd of droolers. Or at least so he might lighten up.  
  
I went to the mirror and replaced my barbell with the red one, experimenting with it a bit before glancing at the garage again. What was taking so long? Finally I gave up on mentally trying to get one of them to appear and sat on the bed. Out of boredom, I dug through the bag and found some nail polish in the that was red, then I painted my nails, then I sat on the bed some more, and then finally I had grabbed my dictionary and was looking up words that might substitute for "Why the hell are you taking so long?" when out stepped Rachel from the garage. "Now don't you dare laugh," she ordered firmly.  
  
"Sure." I answered automatically, looking up from my dictionary. I didn't think there would be anything that could have made me do anything but sigh in annoyance, but the moment Scott stepped through the doorway my jaw dropped and my dictionary landed on the ground. Now, I won't deny that Scott is good looking, but the way he was done up, he looked down right sexy. He had on a sharp looking dark blue, pin-stripe suit with a matching tie. His hair was actually combed and for once didn't have his usual "Just- rolled-out-of-bed-and-ran-my-hands-through-my-hair" look. Every hair looked to be in place and I think there was even little bit of gel too.  
  
"What do you think?" he asked, rolling a dark blue fedora up his arm, catching it with two fingers of his other hand and then dramatically sliding it on his head.  
  
"You look.fine." I managed, grabbing my dictionary from off of the floor.  
  
Scott smiled, "Fine? You dropped your precious dictionary when you saw me. That's got to be better than fine."  
  
I nodded and got up, walking towards him, "Yeah. Well, you might have some good looks under all that grime after all, Sparky. It took you long enough to look like, what are you, anyway?"  
  
"A gangster." He explained, "I saw it in a movie based way back in the 1920's. When they tried to made beer illegal. Guys used to dress like this every day. Figured it'd work."  
  
I glanced at the mirror and then to Rachel and Scott, my arms linking through one of theirs. "Well, now that' we're all done up, what are we waiting for? Let's blow this joint!" 


	7. Chapter 7

We got to the party along with everyone else, right on time. Right on time being when everyone had just enough to drink to loosen up, but not enough to get stupid yet. It was perfect. Scott was out of the house and looked as if he might even have some fun and Rachel and I were getting wide-eyed stares from around the room. Rachel and I walked to our normal corner of the building and I turned to yell at Scott to tell him how to find us, but he had wandered off to the bar already. From a distance, I noticed he still looked hot.  
  
I shrugged it off and turned to Rachel and our party began. We hit the floor and the party came alive. The crowd was in full costume. From wizards, to garbage men, to bunny rabbits. Everyone was moving and grooving, the beat resounding in the movements.  
  
After a few songs I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink, noticing out of the corner of my eye Scott talking to some blonde girl. She was all done up in this 1920's flapper costume. Except she had managed to turn a dress that should have been sexy into skanky. I finished my drink and went back to the dance floor, finding Rachel and pulling her to the side. I tried to ask her who the girl was, but the music was too loud. I pointed towards Scott and hoped that she would figure out what I was trying to communicate. She looked at me and shrugged, then held up a finger and swaggered off. She was a sight in that costume. I watched as she made her way over to Scott and try to start a conversation. I shook my head; I was acting like some jealous girlfriend. I didn't get it. I focused on the song playing and began to dance, one of the guys around siding up to me. I glanced over to the bar after a bit and watched as Scott turned away from Rachel and back to the blonde. Despite the fact that my favorite song had just begun to play I pushed my way out of the dance floor to see what happened. Rachel didn't just look rejected, she looked pissed. I lost sight of the bar for a second as a wave of people came rushing the floor. After the flood had ceased I glanced at the bar again, Rachel was still there sulking, but Scott had disappeared.  
  
"Where'd he go?" I asked when I reached the bar.  
  
Rachel looked up, "Off with the matching blonde slut."  
  
I raised my eyebrows, "What?" getting no response I looked up at the bartender, Ian. Ian was a great guy, obviously gay and great all around. A while back he had a run in with some asshole that had been a part of the crowd around Rachel and me one night. Apparently the guy thought that watching two girls make out was the greatest, but when Ian offered to buy the guy a drink, well, it wasn't pretty. Let's just say, Ian's gaydar was either way off or broken. Rachel and I found Ian outside holding baggie of ice to his bruised face. We promptly found the guy who'd beaten poor Ian and mock seduced him into coming behind the warehouse. Again, needless to say, the guy was never seen at a party with Rachel and I again and Ian was our new favorite bartender. Plus the free drinks didn't hurt.  
  
"Hey Ian, where'd the good looking guy in the suit take off to?"  
  
Ian sighed, "You mean the one who is obviously *not* gay? He sighed dreamily, "He took of with the chick that everyone thought was his date. Something about matching tires? Or was it attire? I don't know."  
  
"What?" I asked again, "Scott took off with an actual person? The party hasn't even be going on for more than an hour and he's already shacking up with some big boobed, blonde bimbo? That's just not right."  
  
"Oh, I hear that girlfriend,' Ian nodded, "What he needs is to do is shack up with a scrawny, blonde, handsome gay boy, such as myself."  
  
I laughed, "You know. I've wondered about him myself. If I find out something I'll have to invite you to dinner."  
  
"Excuse me." He held up his hand. "You have dinner with that guy?"  
  
"I live with that guy," I grinned.  
  
'Oh, bitch. Get out of my bar, right now," he teased.  
  
"Bring it on, missy," I tossed back before turning to Rachel, "Is this guy for real?"  
  
Rachel looked over at me. "I can't believe he'd rather leave with her than dance with us. What does she have that I don't?"  
  
I slung an arm around her, "Nothing, except for the obvious implants. He just probably thinks you're only into making time with the ladies. What'd he say that got you all mopey anyway?"  
  
"I am not mopey." She whined. "I'm just slightly irritated."  
  
"Wow, someone's been reading my dictionary." Getting nothing but a flat look in response, I glanced at Ian, who leaned closer to me.  
  
"It's not every day that Miss Thing over there gets blown off, you know," he stage whispered.  
  
I sighed, "Especially for some no good blonde thing. She wasn't even his type anyway."  
  
"Oh, girl. Please tell me I'm his type." Ian pleaded.  
  
Chuckling, I glanced around the party, "Sorry Ian, babe. But I'm pretty sure he's straight. He's way too into getting greased up in the garage."  
  
"Bitch, please! Now you're just trying to get me turned on. Stop already!" Ian joked.  
  
Giving Ian a wink, I shook my head, "Scott may be off limits, but I do know of a few guys that might be more into something you've got." I nodded my head down the bar at a group of guys that had been eyeing him, "Go work your magic, girl." I encouraged and with a flip of his towel he was off to get the group whatever they might want.  
  
Ah Ian, if he weren't gay, Rachel and me would make him our love slave. I sighed then turned my focus back to Rachel, "Come on Ray. Don't be a downer. Let's go dance."  
  
Rachel finished her drink and stood, "Anything to get little miss 'So, like, I keep getting asked if you're my date. You know we're both wearing old gangster clothes. Maybe we should hook up.' out of my head."  
  
I grabbed her hand, "Sweets, you're more woman than that girl any day. And to make it better," I pulled her close as a slow song started, "you're with me."  
  
After that, Rachel seemed a bit better. And even though it was fun, and we did dance and make out and dance some more, then put on little shows for the crowd, I couldn't help but wonder where Scott had run off to. I mean, I'd seen the girl. And sure she was cute, but, I really didn't think Scott was like that. And they hadn't been talking for very long. No more than ten minutes or so. But as always, I just shook it off and continued to party.  
  
Some odd hours later I kept looking over to the bar, hoping that Scott would show up again. Not seeing him, I sighed and made my way to our corner of the party. I glanced at Rachel who was busy scamming with some guy. She was plastered already and had completely forgotten about being turned down. I studied Rachel and the guy for a second. Funny how I could watch her make out with some guy I didn't even know and not care, but the thought of Scott taking off with some girl wouldn't leave me alone. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I took off for the door. Rachel wouldn't notice if I was gone anyway, and I didn't feel like drinking anymore. Besides, I was exhausted and there was a piece of material was wedged so far up my crack I was starting to walk funny.  
  
I was sure that Rachel was going to end up at my place anyway. For the mere reason that the walk to the junkyard was shorter than the walk to her place. I was a bit tipsy as I walked out into the smoggy air around the building. I guess I'd had a bit more to drink that I thought. Wiggling a bit to try and dislodge the fabric of the skirt, I heard someone call my name. Apparently Rachel had noticed that I wasn't around anymore and had come after me.  
  
"Hey, you're bailing?" she asked after she caught up to me.  
  
"Yeah," I nodded, starting to walk again, "I'm not feeling so great, besides, as good as I'm sure I look, I can't stand this skirt anymore."  
  
Rachel glanced at me, "You sure that's all?"  
  
I forced a laugh, "Yeah, what else would it be?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, I'm sure." Rachel muttered, falling into step beside me.  
  
We walked the rest of the way in silence. I noticed Rachel stumbling a bit so I put an arm around her. "You're too drunk to be walking alone." She didn't say anything in response. So I took that as a good sign.  
  
We walked into the junkyard and made our way to the shack. I was tired and irritated and really looking forward to the bed in there. My body was so tired from working then partying and dancing, I could care less about Scott and Miss Blondie Thingy. And I wasn't even sure what time it was or how long we'd been out.  
  
Leaning on each other, we reached the door and I kicked it open. I froze the second we walked through the door. Rachel looked around, realized what was going on, and made a noise that sounded like a drunken giggle. "Are we all getting in the bed? Or are we going to spend the night in the back seat of some cheap vehicle?"  
  
"I wouldn't get within two feet of where that thing was sleeping." I snapped.  
  
Rachel scoffed, "I'll be in the garage then." Glancing at the bed she leaned over, giving me a very wet and drunk kiss. "Join me when you're done."  
  
I glanced at the bed again. By this time the two people in the bed were sitting up, each covering themselves with the blankets we had. It seemed that Scott had come back to the junkyard, and he'd brought the blonde with him. At least that's what I came to make of the two figures that had been, until Rach and I walked in, making noises and moving around in the bed. I cleared my throat and flipped on the lights. "Good morning sunshine. Sorry to interrupt, but you're in my bed and I'm tired."  
  
Scott looked over at me, his hair no longer perfect. It was very tousled. "Get out Kat," he growled.  
  
I put my hands on my hips, the alcohol making me a bit braver than usual. "You get out, Scott. I want to sleep."  
  
Scott looked at the blonde then to me, "I'm busy. You can have the bed later."  
  
"I don't want the bed later." I took a step forward," I want the bed now."  
  
Before either Scott or I could stop her, the blonde pushed Scott away and climbed out of the bed. Hello naked blonde girl. And yes, definitely implants. "No," she looked from me to Scott, "I'll make it easy for you."  
  
I wasn't sure if she was talking to Scott or me at that point.  
  
"No, Jessie, You don't have to go." Scott stated, wrapping the blanket around his waist and standing up. And hello Mr. Six-pack.  
  
Slipping on her dress she turned away from Scott and towards me, "You can have the bed, and the guy. He wasn't getting anything done anyway. I've heard stories, I'm sure you can get something out of him."  
  
"Excuse me?" I challenged her.  
  
She laughed slightly before glancing my way, "You're Kat right?"  
  
My brow furrowed, although, I don't' know why she wouldn't know who I was. I was at every party. If she were anyone she would have heard something about me. "What's your point?' I asked.  
  
She walked to the door, "I'm sure you'll figure it out someday. And maybe this time you will choose somewhere with more class than a bathroom counter."  
  
With that she was gone and I turned back to Scott, "You brought that...that thing into my home? And then into my bed? She's lucky she walked out when she did, otherwise I would have kicked the fake-ass tittied bitch."  
  
Scott's jaw tightened, 'Oh, don't pull that shit. I had to walk in mid stride on you and Rachel and you didn't even have the courtesy to stop, so don't even start in on me."  
  
"You weren't due home for another day!" I shrieked. "You were early!"  
  
"Yeah well sometimes life happens," he roared back, "Excuse me for thinking we might grab a nice dinner in celebration."  
  
My eyes widened, "Don't you dare yell at me and then you try to make it as if it was *my* fault, you asshole! You brought that piece of trash here. Into my house and into my bed, fully knowing that I was going to come home tonight! How dare you!"  
  
Scott shook his head, his voice mocking me in a falsetto. "How dare I? How dare I?" His face turned a nice shade of red, as his voice went back to its normal tone, "How can you have the gall to yell at me when you're out sleeping with all the party animals of LA? At least I knew her name before we hooked up."  
  
Okay, now, that hurt. It may have been true. But it still stung, "What are you talking about?" I asked, grasping at some thin thread.  
  
"Oh, please. Come on Kat." He took a step towards me, "You think I don't know what's going on with you? You think I don't hear people talking? As opposed to what you or Rachel think, I do get out of my "hole" as you guys have been calling it. And I hear things. You and Rachel are one of the most popular topics of conversation."  
  
I'm not sure, but I think I looked like a deer caught in the headlights, "Well," I sputtered. "What I do outside of this garage is my business."  
  
"What you do?" Scott's eyebrow shot up, "You mean you're messing around with more than just humans?"  
  
"You bastard." I screamed, "That was low and you know it."  
  
"Low?" he turned, aghast, "Low would be asking when you're going to bring home Rachel *and* a Great Dane. You just kicked a girl I was in bed with out and you have the nerve to call me low?"  
  
I crossed my arms, "She got up out of the bed on her own. I didn't rip her out of it."  
  
"The point still remains." He continued, "At least when I walked in I didn't say anything and just left. You could have done the same!"  
  
"And risk getting stains on the sheets? Lord already knows what I'm going to have to scrub off of there!"  
  
"Nothing worse than what you've put on there, I'm sure." He turned and shook his head, "It was hypocritical of you, Kat. I would have expected more."  
  
"Ugh, I'm crushed." I answered. "I mean, I'm so sorry you didn't have to sleep with that trash. You probably would have caught something anyway."  
  
He turned back to me, "No Kat, I couldn't have. Because nothing happened. And nothing was going to happen. I'm not like you. I don't go screwing everything that crosses my path. I was just fooling around, nothing serious. I may be a guy, but I'm not that kind of a guy."  
  
I scoffed, "Oh, so you just fell on top of her while you were both naked?"  
  
"No." glaring at me Scott dropped the sheet. To my surprise he was still wearing the pants to his suit. "I don't just go around screwing the first thing that takes off their clothes."  
  
I blinked, unsure of what to say. "Bastard." I growled, moving towards the garage, "Fucking bastard."  
  
He glared at me, "What? Because I'm honest? Because I'm exposing your actions to you?"  
  
I froze. I thought what he'd said earlier had stung. I bit my lip, refusing to cry. I didn't care what he said. I wouldn't let him see me cry.  
  
"Just go," he said in a patronizing voice. "Crawl into Rachel's warm arms and screw the hard stuff away." I took a step back. I guess he wasn't pulling out any stops for this one. "I tried, okay," he continued in an emotionless voice. "I tried to live like you. And you know what? I'd rather sit and meddle with a car than continuously lose pieces of myself to God knows who. I couldn't last more than an hour at that God forsaken party. How the hell can you last months? You must be so dead and trampled inside. I feel sorry for you."  
  
I blinked. This time a tear slipped from my eye, "I don't need your pity. I don't need anything. All I wanted was some fun. All I wanted was some time out of here." With that I turned and walked out of the shack. I didn't know where I was going. But I was suddenly sober and crying for the third time since I'd ran away. 


	8. Chapter 8

My favorite part of the day is right when darkness falls and the stars start showing up, or when the starry sky is on the verge of becoming white in the twilight of a new day. I remember when my mom and I would sit on our apartment roof, before the pulse and before the drugs and all. I remember how we would watch the stars appear and disappear. We'd try to count and name them until there got to be so many we couldn't keep track then when they started to disappear, we'd wave to each one, trying to remember which name we'd given it. She used to sit on the ledge and I'd stand between her legs, she'd wrap her arms around me and hold me close or I'd sit on her lap, resting my head on her shoulder pointing and watching the twinkling lights looking down on us. It sounds crazy, and maybe it's just me lying to myself, but in those moments, I knew she loved me. Despite anything that may have gone on in the previous hours. Despite the neglect or abuse, in those seldom moments, with her arms around me, the scent of her in my nose; in those moments, I knew she loved me. And if that wasn't love, well then I don't know if I know what is.  
  
I sighed, lighting a cigarette I'd pulled from my pants pocket, took a long drag, and gazed at the sky. After I'd walked out of the shack, I'd realized I didn't have anywhere to go. So I just sat in the back of a car and cried. Sure, what Scott had said had hurt, but what was worse was that he was right. I was being hypocritical. But what was worse was that I was turning into the one person I swore I'd never be like. I was turning into my mother. I hated her, but I was still becoming her. After I had cried as much as I thought I could I had snuck into the house to find Scott asleep on the bed, the blanket back around him. I wiped a few stray tears before grabbing a pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt. I was still wearing that horrid costume. I looked at myself in the mirror and wanted to break the damn thing. I even looked like her. After I dressed I went into the garage and made sure Rachel was okay. She'd stumbled into the garage and passed out against Scott's toolbox. I had totally forgotten her as Scott and I had argued.  
  
Not having anywhere to sleep, and not really wanting to sleep I relented to the outdoors again. It was a clear night. And an old white, truck caught my eye. I climbed on top of it and sat on the roof. One of my legs was pulled up to my chest while the other lay limply on the cracked windshield. My elbow rested on the leg pulled up to my chest while my chin rested in one hand and my cigarette rested between the fingers of my other hand. I didn't smoke often, only when things got too stressful. Only when things were out of my control. As a matter of fact, the smokes were actually Rachel's. The last few months, I hadn't even bought a pack on my own even when we were swamped with work. My excuse was that working with carb cleaners and gasoline while smoking was not the brightest idea in the world, but in truth, I just didn't feel like the world was spinning away from me. At least, not until tonight.  
  
I looked towards the shack and took another drag. I closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the soft noise of cars in the distance and my own breathing. At this time of night that was all that could be heard. LA could actually be mistaken for a peaceful place. When I opened my eyes I saw Scott standing in the doorway. He'd pulled on a hoodie and some jeans and was leaning against the frame of the shack. Our stares met. Things around the place had been so tense lately. Actually, things had been tense ever since Scott had walked in on Rachel and me. Something had changed in him after that night. He kept acting funny, saying weird things or just not saying anything at all. If I didn't know better I'd think he was acting almost.jealous. But then I was acting almost jealous myself.  
  
I took another drag. I didn't understand our recent change of behavior. I didn't understand what the big deal was. And it felt like my not understanding was the big reason I was sitting on the truck alone, thinking about the few times I actually felt like someone loved me. I just didn't understand it though. I mean, I was having fun. I was living my life. It was great. I was untouchable, right? Although, I did miss him. I'll admit it, Rachel and partying had taken up a lot of my life and I'd found myself spending less and less time with Scott unless we were actually working in the garage. And after what he said, I was rethinking my reign as the party princess.  
  
I took another drag as I looked away from Scott. What he'd said really hurt, more than I had thought anything could hurt. As he came walking towards me, I bit my lip. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't even know if I wanted to talk to him. All I knew is that I wasn't up for Round Two.  
  
When he got to the truck he looked at me and nodded, "Whatcha doing?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.  
  
I looked from the cigarette to the sky, "Just thinking."  
  
"Oh." He nodded and stepped towards the truck to lean against the front of it.  
  
I slid down the windshield and moved so I was sitting next to him on the hood. "How about you?" I asked.  
  
He shook his head and looked toward the shack, "Nothing really. Can't sleep and I don't feel like working right now."  
  
"Wow," I teased dryly, "Scott not in the mood to work on cars? Someone call the local papers."  
  
Scott smiled slightly, "Yeah, well besides the fact that there's a black haired school girl sleeping on my tools, someone once told me that sometimes you gotta live a little."  
  
I took another drag and looked away, "Oh, right."  
  
He looked at the cigarette between my two fingers, "Those things will kill you."  
  
"Yeah," I agreed, taking another drag, "Wanna die with me?" I offered him the rest of my cigarette.  
  
He studied it then shrugged, taking it from my hand "Why not."  
  
I watched him take a drag and nudged him, "You're a natural, Sparky."  
  
"Well," he lamented, "To be honest, it's not the first one of these I've had." He took another drag and coughed a bit. He smiled ruefully. "Actually, I only started because I wanted to be like Zane in everything. He's the only guy I ever knew that could carry on a full conversation, leaning over an engine with a cigarette hanging from his lip and not get a single ash in the engine."  
  
I nodded thoughtfully. Had he just opened up a piece of his past? "You quit?" I rested my head on his shoulder. I had to work at keeping the surprise out of my voice. Wow. Call it instinct, but I thought he had just told me a little something about the mysterious friend that had taught him everything he knew about cars. Maybe it was his way of apologizing. Or maybe Scott just wanted someone in his life he could trust enough to really talk to and that was a baby step.  
  
Scott stiffened when we touched. "Yeah," he finally said.  
  
"So, why'd you take that one?" I asked. I thought about asking more about Zane, but this wasn't the time or the place. It felt like our time, and nothing for the rest of the world.  
  
"Dunno," he shrugged slightly, "Just felt like the right thing to do."  
  
"Hmm." I murmured, my eyes looking up to gaze at the night sky, "It's gorgeous, isn't it?"  
  
Scott looked at me, "Beautiful." He answered, not even batting an eye.  
  
I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, "My mom and I used to try to count and name them."  
  
"Really?" Scott sounded surprised, at my look he recanted, "She just doesn't seem the type. Not from what you've mentioned, anyway."  
  
I looked over at him, "I know," I gazed past him, studying an old washing machine, "But she loved me then." I shivered and focused on Scott, smirking, "I guess she had a few surprises up her sleeves, huh?"  
  
"I guess so," Scott finished the cigarette and threw it down before stepping on it. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.  
  
I lifted my head from my knee and looked away, "Yeah. I know."  
  
"I didn't mean it, you know." He grabbed my hand, "I was just angry. Sometimes I lose it when I'm angry." He paused for a few seconds, like he had something else to say, but didn't want to. Finally he had this "what the hell" expression and said, "When I left the party, Jessie and I went to a coffee shop. I wasn't planning on bringing her back here. I was just going to walk her home, but we had to go past here and...and I don't know how it happened. She was insisting and I just wanted a distraction. When I got her in there, it didn't take long before I wanted her out more than anything else from her."  
  
Watching him, I smiled. He was a good guy. Kind, sweet, almost perfect. I found myself reaching out to him and grabbing his arm. Ignoring the look he gave me I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling his back to my chest so he was between my thighs. I closed my eyes and rested my chin on his shoulder, hugging him to me, "Thank you, Scott." I whispered.  
  
He turned his head a bit, "For what?" he whispered back.  
  
I shrugged and hugged him tighter, "For letting me stay. For letting me help in the garage. For having the balls to kick my ass when I needed it. For just being you." I almost added, "for saving me from myself" but I think he knew anyways.  
  
I felt him relax against me, "You're welcome." He offered.  
  
I smiled and kissed his cheek, "You're too good to me, Sparky."  
  
He moved to pull away but I held onto him, "No," I pleaded softly, "Just stay with me. You don't have to say anything, just stay."  
  
He moved back against me and placed his elbows lightly on my thighs on either side of him, "Alright." He breathed.  
  
I closed my eyes again and in that moment, just Scott and I, something changed in me. It would soon be a year that we'd been living together. We'd fixed up at least four cars from almost nothing and already had a few more we were starting in on, plus done a lot of repairs on good cars. I thought about all the time I'd spent with him, in the garage, in the shack, in the yard, in town picking up parts, everywhere. And I knew then that I loved him. Not in the mushy "Baby, I want you" way. But in the "my friend whom I love" sort of way.  
  
I sighed and looked up to the stars. No matter how rough it got between Scott and I, and I knew we still had some talking to do, but no matter what, I would always remember this moment. Because in the moment, I was sure that Scott loved me too. 


	9. Chapter 9

Another day, another supply run. At least that's what Scott said it was. I wasn't sure what he was talking about. We didn't exactly need any supplies right then. So of course I argued that we had finished our last big project a couple of days before and except for one paint job and some minor detailing on another car, there wasn't anything on the agenda. But Scott insisted - I say complained - that we were low on essentials and he didn't want to get caught with his pants down if someone should happen to walk in and want something done before the holidays. Finally I just shook my head and walked out with out even so much as a "Whatever." If someone was that hard-up to get their hood ornament spray painted gold, they could wait a day while I ran to the store.  
  
Once I calmed down and actually made my way to town I realized something that came in from left field. Along with the normal little stands and miniature stores along the roads there were vans and cars that were selling off all sorts of seasonal decorations and what not. It took me a second to realize what they were. I mean, holidays already? Wow. But, yeah, it was that time, wasn't it? Funny how time sort of snuck up on us in the junkyard. One day it was Halloween and now it was the end of the first week of December. I suppose I had an excuse though; Scott and I had been working a lot. Hey, I didn't say it was a new excuse. We got in a full restoration job and a few small ones to keep us hopping. And it's not as if I minded all the work. On one side, it was good for me to have all of that hit us at once. It kinda gave me the excuse I needed to lay off of the party circuit for a while. Not totally off by any means, but enough to start getting myself together and seeing myself through other's eyes. And I tell you, after the blow up known as "Halloween" I realized that there needed to be some changes in my life.  
  
It really hit me when I went to this party a week after Halloween. I didn't drink. I mean, yeah, I had one drink, but I was way far from drunk. And I realized people were looking at me. Not in that paranoid, they're out to get me way, but expectantly. And then it hit me. They knew who I was and they were expecting me to do something outrageous that would shock and titillate the crowd. Bastards. I wasn't their free porn show. But then again, that's what I had become over the last several months. Kat and Rach, always doing something wild and crazy. I guess I realized that that wasn't what I wanted and that it wasn't how I wanted to get attention. I would rather have one person that really cared about me than a hundred that cared about what I could do for them. I was sick of the fakes in this world. Even the people acting like they were keeping it real were just a bunch of fakes. And the worst part was, I was probably the biggest fake of all.  
  
I didn't drop Rach though. I don't have the heart to after all we've been through. After all, she was still my girl, but we were finding more private places to get busy at. And no, not at the junkyard either. It wouldn't be fair to Scott. I understood that now. She was a little confused about the change of heart, but she was cool with it. She didn't care as long as I didn't hold her back. She stayed on the party circuit and I didn't try to stop her. Rach was Rach. Love it or hate it, she wasn't going to wake up one morning straight as a line. Besides, my attitude was "What the hell, she's great no matter what."  
  
And every now and then she would surprise me. Like on the last Thursday in November. She showed up with a turkey. A dead one. Plucked even. This pleased me to no end since making any sort of good meal usually meant I had to kill or pluck something that had recently been alive. Scott and I had talked about maybe having dinner somewhere together that night, but since Rach showed up with a big dead bird, presenting it to me like a cat gives its owner a dead mouse as a token of affection, dinner plans with Scott were put aside. She just grinned and said I knew how to make things hot. So work the bird. I had no idea what to say, or the heart to tell her I had already made plans, so I just laughed and got to work since I knew Rach wouldn't be cooking it. There was a reason Rachel didn't have a stove at her place. But I could make due. Scott had seen the bird and told me if I got near a car again that day, he'd kill me. "Go forth and cook, young woman," I believe were his exact words.  
  
So I did. And let me tell you of my wondrous culinary skills, it ended up tasting beyond fabulous. I ran out and found a few things I needed and managed to turn out one of my best meals yet, despite Rachel's attempts to help in the kitchen. After she had boiled a pot of water so much so that it ended up evaporating and nearly ruining the pan itself, I told her to sit on the couch and not move. Reluctantly she slunk to the couch and ended up wandering into the garage to make small talk with Scott. I laughed at that, Rachel and Scott talking? I was almost sad I had to stay near the stove to cook. But after all was done, the three of us sat down and I dunno, it was like, a twisted Hallmark moment. But in a good way. Even Scott managed some conversation beyond "More turkey. Now."  
  
Rachel also produced some wine after we sat down. Go figure. It wasn't some movie moment with the whole family sitting around a decorated table, but I think it was even better because it was real. It was so us. Rach had said earlier she was going to go to a party later, but she ended up ditching the party and just hanging out. Not that it sparked a change in her, she was at it twice as hard the next night to make up for it, but still, for one night I think all three of us knew what it meant to have a family.  
  
But that had been more than a week ago and now I was tired and cranky and wondering why I was the one who was always going on supply runs. And then I walked through the front door. The bag slipped through my nerveless fingers, landing on the floor somewhere near my jaw. Oh my God. That was all I could think. Oh my God.  
  
The place was softly lit with a bunch of twinkling colorful lights. They were everywhere, on the walls, behind the bed, even draping around the doors and windows. And in the corner were Scott and a tree.  
  
My eyes were as huge as golf balls and I still had no clue what to say or think. I mean, a tree. And lights. And Scott. Somehow it wasn't connecting in my head. It didn't make sense. When I had left he was huddled in the garage, moaning about supplies and what not. But to get back and see our home in such a way. I needed to sit.  
  
Years ago, I remember being in a place where it was all decorated. Mom had managed to find shelter in the arms of one of her clients for Christmas Eve. And while she was busy in the other room with him I was left in his living room. I remember looking around at all of the pictures and decorations. There were pictures of what I assumed were his wife and kids surrounded by different sorts of miniature statues and trinkets but most of all, I remember the tree. It was decorated fully with lights, garland, fake icicles, and gorgeous blue and silver ornaments. The lights twinkled, causing the silver garland to shine. I was so excited and enamored.  
  
When my mom and he were finished they came out while I was still staring at the tree. The man even let me take one of the small icicle ornaments as a keepsake. I used to look at it and remember that night. I'd hang it on something and pretend it was my tree. And once again I would be taken back to the warmth of the house and I'd remember what it felt like. But when I ran, I had forgotten to grab it. Looking around at my house now, I could almost smell and feel that old house. And somehow, it was comforting.  
  
Next thing I knew, Scott was sitting beside me on the couch, pulling me towards the tree and out of my memories. "Do you like it?"  
  
I looked around once more, trying to come up with words, "I love it, Scott." I finally whispered.  
  
A huge grin spread across his face and like a small boy presenting his mother with flowers, he showed me around and told me of all he had done. From the lights to the ribbons to even some candles. His eyes shone as he told me how he'd gotten the tree and different things from a client and how he'd had this planned for weeks. I couldn't believe what he had done. And the biggest surprise of all was when he grabbed the cans of red and gold spray paint I had picked up and he then led me into the garage. Hung from the ceiling were several different scraps of metal and small car parts. He shook a can the sprayed one of the pieces gold. My brow furrowed, "I don't get it."  
  
Scott simply smiled and sprayed a bit of red on top of the gold, "You're going to help me finish decorating the tree, aren't you?"  
  
Then it clicked. The supply run had been for the Holidays, not for car parts. He really had planned this all out. Smiling I grabbed a can of spray paint, "I'd love to."  
  
We spent most of the day spray painting, decorating, organizing and reorganizing the house to make it feel new and more in the Holiday spirit. We even ended up spray painting some of the tables and crates to match the decorations. He continued to tell me, in detail, exactly how he'd figured out how he was going to decorate and why he put everything where he had.  
  
Evening came and went and finally we had the house looking perfect. We lit the candles around the house and sat down to dinner. He had even prepared a little something there too. Not much, it was simply some processed, packaged food that didn't actually require cooking but the effort alone spoke volumes. We continued chatting happily during dinner and after cleaning up a bit we both sat on the couch. Silence loomed and I turned to look at Scott. It was amazing. He had changed so much since I first got there. I have to admit, I didn't notice over the months. But it was amazing how different he actually looked. He'd grown taller, his shoulders more broad and his face had aged. It made me wonder if I'd changed too.  
  
I mindlessly played with my tongue ring for a second before grabbing Scott's hand and squeezing, "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome." He squeezed back.  
  
We sat for a few seconds, hands still together. I moved to face him a bit, "Why did you do it?"  
  
He gazed around at the decorations before glancing at me, "Because you deserve it."  
  
"I do?" I questioned softly.  
  
Again, Scott squeezed my hand, "You do."  
  
I squirmed uncomfortably, "But why?"  
  
"Because," he started to say and then hesitated, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. "For once just trust me," he finally said. "You've done more for me than I can say. So I wanted to do this for you."  
  
I blinked. He was the one that took me in, taught me about cars, took care of me when I would let him, and didn't try to run my life. What had I done for him? Sure, I had helped him with cars, but he wouldn't have had to do so many if he were just taking care of himself. I had also driven him crazy, argued constantly, and invited myself in his life without asking first.  
  
I guess I was still staring and he thought that was need for more explanation. He sighed. "My parents were just people I lived with. In my life there was only one person that I ever thought of as real family. Until I met you."  
  
For a second I thought I saw a glaze of tears in his eyes. And then I realized that my vision was getting a little watery too. Whoa. Must have been the fumes from the spray paint. I leaned over and gave him a hug. "I know what you mean, Sparky."  
  
We broke apart, feeling kind of odd about the situation. I couldn't see myself telling Rachel that she was a part of my family. Scott had become an older brother and a friend. We were going to fight and argue, but deep down we did care about each other. I couldn't remember having a friend like that for real. Hell, couldn't remember having a family member like that. And if I ever met this mysterious Zane guy from Scott's past, I was going to kick him where he would remember it to his dying day for abandoning Scott when he still needed him.  
  
"Oh, Kat," Scott said, "You have to promise me that you won't go into the bottom drawer of my tool box."  
  
I looked at him suspiciously. "The one that has a lock that works?"  
  
"The one that you've broken into more than once?"  
  
"Whyyyy?" I drawled.  
  
He looked at me like I had an IQ of about 4. That was the Scott I was used to. "Kat, it's Christmas," he said emphatically. And then I got it. Christmas. Tree. Things that go under said tree. Things in wrapping paper with bows. Oh crap. When I was little I had made my mother a star of silver-painted macaroni and called it a Christmas gift, but I had never in my life been presented with the situation of getting someone a real one. There was only one thing I could do.  
  
Rachel laughed at me that night when we were at a club. "Get him something he wants," she suggested.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "How am I supposed to figure that out?"  
  
She smiled at me and licked her lips. "Well, there's a night with the two of us."  
  
"I don't want to get him something he'd exchange for store credit," I replied dryly. That made Rachel laugh again.  
  
"You can't tell me there isn't something he wants to add to that greasy little cave."  
  
"That cave happens to be a garage," I replied. "And he's got *everything*."  
  
Rachel smirked and took a sip of her drink. "Lesson one on men, Kat. No matter how much they have, they always want more."  
  
I thought about it, and then gasped, my eyes widening. "A transmission jack!" I cried triumphantly. Rachel looked at me like I was crazy. "It's used for taking out a tranny," I explained quickly. "Flat plate that tilts, makes it a lot easier to line up the transmission with the driveshaft of the engine." Rachel's expression said that I was speaking Greek to her. I shook my head. "It's a big metal thing Scott talked about the last car we did."  
  
"Now you're making sense!" She settled back into her seat. "Where you going to get one?"  
  
I thought and the excitement faded. "I have no idea," I said sadly. "Scott looked all over LA and he couldn't find one that they would sell."  
  
Rachel thought for a minute. "I have a friend in San Francisco that can get almost anything. I'll give him a call."  
  
I smiled. "If you can find one, then I am going to owe you big."  
  
She grinned. "Baby, that's what I'm counting on."  
  
A couple of weeks went by and I was getting frantic about Scott's gift. Rachel's friend was looking, but hadn't located what I wanted. I had found this cool tool box, but it just seemed lame as a gift after all Scott went through to make the place festive. Every time I walked in and saw the ornaments we made glittering in the little colored lights and smelled the pine scent, I felt so guilty. I wanted to do something nice for him too.  
  
And then three days before Christmas, Rach came flying into the junkyard; dragging me out from under a car I was playing with. Scott was out; one of our clients had called saying his car wouldn't start. From what he has said, Scott was thinking he left the lights on and the battery was dead. Still, it gave Rach and me an hour or two alone.  
  
"Tiny called!" she said excitedly. "He found exactly what you were looking for. All the little numbers you gave me match."  
  
I squealed in excitement, giving her a big hug and swinging her around. "Rach, you cannot imagine the filthy things I am going to do to your body in gratitude."  
  
She laughed. "Don't promise just yet," she said. "There's a catch. The guy that has it is leaving tonight to go to San Diego. So if you want it, we have to leave like right now."  
  
I looked around. Shit! Those things are big and heavy and the little pickup that we had was barely trustworthy to go around town, much less a road trip. The car I would trust for a trip like this was too small to fit the jack into. And then I remembered the Escalade.  
  
It wasn't paid for yet. I swear. That was the only reason why I even considered it. Mr. T. A. Barron's friend's girlfriend wanted one. The friend wanted to see what Scott could do before purchasing. But if he bought it, then we would get a lot more business. It was hinted that the girlfriend liked having a new car a couple times a year. They were going to come and look at it New Year's Day.  
  
I glanced at Rachel then to the set of keys on our customer wall. I needed to do this for Scott, but if anything happened to the car, he was going to kill me, and then he'd kill Rachel. I chewed on my lip while contemplating what it would take to get to San Francisco and back and not hurt the car. But then again, if anything did happen, it's not like we wouldn't have time if necessary to fix it.  
  
I took a minute to write a note to Scott letting him know I was going to be with Rach, but I would be home the next day, or the morning of Christmas Eve at the latest. And then making an executive decision, I grabbed the set of keys and jangled them in the air, "Come on, girl. Move your ass off that Range Rover and into my pretty baby Escalade!"  
  
Rachel furrowed her brow in confusion before following me out of the car and to the Escalade. She squealed with glee, "Oh, it's shiny!"  
  
I rolled my eyes. Only Rachel would say something like that. "Yes, shiny and ex-pen-sive," I said slowly, emphasizing the syllables in expensive. "That means if you do anything to damage or hurt this guy, not only will you see my wrath, but Scott will probably be right behind me."  
  
"Does that mean no fun loving?" she asked with wide eyes.  
  
I started the car and began driving out of the junkyard, "Not completely. Just not in the car."  
  
"I don't know, Kat." Rachel smirked, placing a hand on my thigh and ran it up to my breast, "Car loving can be twice as fun."  
  
Carefully, I swatted her hand away, "No, no, and more no's. If anything happens I can't guarantee that I'll have enough time to fix it before Scott sees. Besides if one seat gets anything on it then that means I have to reupholster all of the seats because we don't have any of this material left and the guy we got it from won't have any for another few months. And I don't want to have to reupholster all of the seats."  
  
"Whatever you say." Rachel backed off, giving me a sideways glance.  
  
"What?" I sighed, knowing that there was more to her look.  
  
Rachel innocently batted her eyelashes, "Oh nothing. Just that you sounded just like Scott. For a second I was tempted to try and rip off your facemask. I mean, all I was asking was for a bit of cuddling a little fun."  
  
I gave a half smile, "I know, but, seriously, not while we're in the car. I mean, I don't even want to risk eating in here, let alone us romping around." I grinned over at her, "Think about it, Rach. When was the last time something actually looked the same when we were done with our 'fun loving'?"  
  
"Touché." Rachel broke, "At least can we check out the radio? Oh, and we should stop in Half Moon Bay before San Fran. I know a guy there who will let us pick and chose from his vintage collection of music. For free."  
  
"Mmm." I glanced at the clock, "Maybe on the way back, but for now, we have to make a non-stop 400 mile road trip."  
  
Sighing Rachel leaned back in her seat before sitting up straight, "Wait a second." Smiling she grabbed her purse and started rifling through it before presenting me with two CD's full of techno music. "May I?"  
  
"Please do." I nodded, sliding back a piece of the dash to reveal the stereo deck.  
  
As the first track of the first CD started so did a trip I was sure to never forget. 


	10. Chapter 10

Two times through each of the two CD's, two of Rachel's cat naps (she drooled once on the seat and I stressed for thirty miles until it dried without a stain), and a whole lot of laughter and chatter later we drove into the parking lot of a dumpy looking gas station and car repair garage. The pumps were still up and looked as if they were in working order. They were actually the only things that looked like they were in working order; the garage was in worse shape than ours was. But I figured that working gas pumps would actually come in handy being that the Escalade needed a fill up.  
  
Rachel and I hopped out of the car and headed toward the entrance. "Who's this guy, again?" I asked.  
  
"Just a friend of a friend." Rachel shrugged and slung an arm around my shoulders. "Owes me a favor and I figured this is as good as any."  
  
I smiled and put an arm around her waist, "An excellent favor." My smile faded as we reached the door only to find it locked.  
  
"Shit." Rachel gritted her teeth and tried to see through the grimy glass. "Looks like favor-boy took off early." She tried the door once more before leaning against it. "I'm sorry, Kat. I'll make it up to you. I don't know how, but, sex.lots of sex? Drinks? Lap dance? You name it."  
  
"Rachel," I admonished, "We came here to get a transmission jack and I'm not leaving until I have one in the back of that car."  
  
"And you have a plan for finding one on such short notice?"  
  
Grinning I reached into one of my pockets and pushed her away from the door, "My dear, sweet Rachel. You have yet to see all the many talents of Kat." I lifted a couple of small tools and began to pick the lock. It was a standard lock, easy as taking candy from a baby. In a matter of seconds I heard that wonderful click and pushed the door open, "Now let's go get what we came for."  
  
The plan was to take what we'd come for and leave the money in an envelope on the counter. Now, looking back you'd think I might've been smarter about the situation. I mean, let's think about where we were. Middle of downtown San Francisco, not exactly the suburbs, at a run down gas station with working gas pumps. So maybe I was too focused on getting Scott's present and not enough about a possible silent alarm. At least Rachel and I had managed to maneuver the damn thing into the back of the Escalade - which Scott was not going to be happy about the scratches that the pulley system or the actual gift left - before a bunch of police showed up.  
  
If you want to count small blessings, they assumed we were just after some gas and not thinking of the jack, which would suddenly be felony grand theft. Misdemeanors, they let you post bail for. Felonies, you sit in jail for six months before a judge decides to hear your case, find you guilty and throw you back in jail for a few more years. And I suppose it was sort of humorous. When the first cops showed up Rachel and I probably both looked like deer caught in headlights. And before we knew it we were both in the back of a sector police vehicle and the Escalade and the jack were on their way to the impound lot.  
  
Rachel tried to bribe the cop driving in her own special way, but his partner was a pretty, young blonde who wasn't so easily persuaded. I pointed out that we had left money on the counter. The cop driving sneered, "Money? I didn't see any money." He poked his partner. "You?"  
  
She smirked at us. "Not a dime." Bastards. The lot of them. And forget cute blonde getting any from this chick now.  
  
So, long story short, Rachel and I ended up in a jail cell with a single phone call between the two of us.  
  
"Who do we call?" I squeaked, frantically pacing back and forth. "I don't know anyone here! I don't think I've ever even been in this city! I guess I could call Scott, but then again, we don't have a phone. Dammit!" I shrieked, leaning my back against the wall before sliding down and hugging my knees to my chest. "We never should have come. I should have just gotten him the damn toolbox like I initially thought. I mean, what if they run a background check on me? Lord only knows."  
  
"Kat!" Rachel screamed at my face. I looked up from my hands and into her eyes. She had kneeled down and I can only wonder how many times she'd already said my name before screaming it. I offered a weak smile and opened my mouth before she placed her hand over it. "Let me handle it. And stop muttering like a crazy person. You fit in too well when you do that," she whispered softly.  
  
I gave a nervous laugh and gazed around the different cells. Somehow, thank goodness, Rachel and I had managed to get our own cell. Granted it was in between two cells with all sorts of strange-looking people peering out of them. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my beating heart. I was stuck. Literally stuck. I couldn't call anyone. Rachel was with me, and there was no way of reaching Scott. I rested my head in my hands while Rachel screamed through the bars about rights for having a phone call. She had been doing that off and on for hours now.  
  
After getting no response she gave up and came to sit beside me, "You doing okay?" she asked.  
  
"I'll be okay." I sighed, leaning my head on her shoulder, "at least I'm with a friend. I suppose I could be here all by myself, shit out of luck and company."  
  
Rachel gave me a quick kiss, "If I have to spend some more jail time, I could only hope it'd be with you."  
  
"More jail time?" my eyebrows rose.  
  
Rachel smiled, "You think that I've lived this long with out spending some hard time behind bars?" I gave her a lopsided grin, "Well okay, you're right. But I did get hauled into a little jail of a bungalow for not doing the naughty naughty with one of the sector cops that dropped a bomb on a party I was at. But I got out of there the next day when my friends showed up. My big friends. With big guns."  
  
I chuckled, "You have a story for everything, don't you?"  
  
I was about to say more when the blonde from the police car walked towards our cell and slid the door open, "You've got one phone call, who's going to make it?"  
  
Rachel smiled and gracefully sauntered to the open door, "That would be me, sweet thang."  
  
The blonde rolled her eyes and ushered Rachel away. I sighed and looked from side to side. I suppose it really wasn't so bad. I mean, no one was sitting in a corner whispering things to themselves, and no one was really staring. But, in jail, most people are more concerned with themselves than some young punk. It was then that I remembered that they took the car too. Shit. I didn't know where the impound lot was or how on earth we were going to get it out, that is, if we got out of jail.  
  
But, sooner than later Rachel showed up with a smile on her face. I knew that look. She had done something good. Rach gave the cop a wink before sashaying into the cell, "Tell me you love me and you would be lost with out me."  
  
I smiled, "Tell me you got us a way out of here and I'll even write a song and sing it to you."  
  
Jutting a hip out she shot me a seductive glance. "You owe me big, you know."  
  
"I intend to do what I have to." I winked at her. "But, save that for later. What's the status quo?"  
  
Rachel's brow furrowed, "The status what?"  
  
I shook my head, "What's the deal?"  
  
"Oh!" Rachel sat next to me again and shrugged, "Let's just say I know a lot of people and the person I chose just happened to be home."  
  
"Big guy with a big gun?" I guessed.  
  
"Well, yes and no." He's a pretty big guy, and he does have several big guns, but I don't think he's going to be bringing one, since most of what he owns is illegal. Might be a little over the top."  
  
I nodded thoughtfully, "He's trustworthy though, right?"  
  
"I'd trust him with my life." Rachel answered with sincerely, "So don't worry, let's enjoy what we've got while it lasts." Off my confused look she whispered in my ear, "I've always wanted to get laid in a jail cell."  
  
I grinned and winked, "Well, maybe just this once." And so a pretty heavy make out session began. It's not as if we had anything better to do with our time. And no, we didn't actually go through with anything, I mean we didn't have the chance. Rachel had just pressed me back against the wall when I saw possibly the largest man I had ever seen before. To make things better, he was headed straight for us. I pushed Rach away and turned her head, "Tell me that's not who you called." Did I mention the leather chaps over the jeans or the skull bandana? How about the leather jacket with fringe? And we can't forget that his massive arms were completely covered in tattoos. Or also that he limped, and there was a very distinct thud when his left foot hit he ground, a sound making me believe that there was no foot at all, but a wooden peg? Not to mention that he was waving his huge fist in the air, raging about keeping his 'cuddle bunny' locked up by 'no good, dirty, rotten police.'  
  
Please don't come here, I prayed. I prayed that even harder when one of the guys from the other cell yelled out "Meat Cleaver! You back already?" Meat Cleaver replied back something to do with lousy, stinking pigs. I shrank into the corner of the cell.  
  
Rachel was full of grins at the behemoth coming our way. She waved and then grabbed my hand, "That's our ticket out of here."  
  
"Of course." I muttered, adjusting my clothes and offering a wary smile. "Why wouldn't it be?"  
  
I was sure the guy was going to just rip the bars off, but to my surprise he didn't. The blonde stepped out from behind him and unlocked them and to my even greater surprise Rachel launched herself into the guy's arms, "Grandpa!" she greeted, "Thanks for getting here so quick!"  
  
My eyes were wide as his tree-trunk arms enfolded Rachel. She looked like a tiny, little girl next to him. Not much could intimidate me, but men the size of grizzly bears tended to do it.  
  
"Anything for you, Cuddle Bunny." He said with a big burley voice. "And who's your friend?" he asked, his tone softening as his eyes landed on me. I could see where Rach got her extraordinary eye coloring from.  
  
Rachel grinned and pulled me to her side, "This is Kat. I've told you about her before!"  
  
He looked me up and down. "Why, hello there."  
  
I glanced at Rachel. "Wait a second. This is your grandpa?"  
  
Rachel and he gave a laugh, "Yeah. But most people call him Meat Cleaver."  
  
I offered a shaky hand, "Nice to meet you.Meat Cleaver."  
  
He gave me a huge grin and very lightly shook my hand, "Oh, I like her, Bunny. Very polite. But," he said looking around, "If this is all done here, let's get you to wherever you need to go."  
  
Rachel and I followed him out of the building and Rachel filled him in on the trip and getting arrested. I was still a bit too stunned to do anything buy gawk. It made a lot of sense, actually. Only Rachel would have a big burly grandfather named Meat Cleaver. We walked down the steps of the building and he led us to an equally huge hog of a motorcycle, "Well, climb on and I'll drop you at the impound."  
  
By this time I was sure that he had a wooden peg leg, and at his size I couldn't even imagine three of us on the bike. I mean, when the man threw his leg over the bike and actually sat, the bike sank a good six inches. Now he expected the two of us to climb on. Of course Rachel climbed on just as quick as she could but I admit to being a bit hesitant. And, come on, who in their right mind rides a motorcycle with a wooden leg? Let alone willfully places their life in the hands of a man named Meat Cleaver. But of course, if I didn't go I would be left behind and the trip would have been for nothing so I slid on behind Rachel and just closed my eyes. I figured if I couldn't see what was going on and hung on for dear life it wouldn't hurt as bad.  
  
He took us to the impound lot. It was, big surprise, closed. Great. We got off the motorcycle and Meat Cleaver asked if we wanted to go somewhere else. Rach shook her head.  
  
"No, we got to get Kat's ride out before we can go."  
  
He looked at her sternly. "And what are you planning?"  
  
Rach gave him her sweetest, most innocent look. "Grandpa, I won't lie to you. So, I'm just not going to tell you. Because if I tell you, then you'll have to tell Mom. And she'll decide she needs to spend more time with me and she can't take that kind of time off of work. The holidays are when she makes the most money giving lap dances."  
  
He laughed. "You be a good little Cuddle Bunny. And try to visit your grandmother soon. She needs visitors."  
  
"I will," she promised.  
  
I have to admit, Grandpa Meat Cleaver was full of surprises. From his soft hands and his big hugs - which I got before he drove away - to his smooth driving of a motorcycle with three people on it. Oh, I was still tense as a board the whole ride, and more than happy to climb off of the bike when we got to the impound, but I could really see that his rough exterior was just that. An exterior. Rachel confirmed that he was a huge teddy bear and that his bark was worse than his bite.  
  
"Your grandmother in a hospital or something?" I asked. I wasn't really curious. I wanted to pretend Rachel wasn't about to do what I knew she was. Okay, well, a little curious. I always thought Rach's family was like mine. Yeah, the dysfunction was there, but hey, Grandpa had come running and plunked down a big wad of cash to get us out of jail. Not a single lecture either. Of course her mother being a stripper answered a lot of other questions.  
  
"No!" Rachel said firmly. "Grandma's as healthy as can be. She's in prison."  
  
I groaned. "Your grandfather is a guy named Meat Cleaver with a wooden peg leg and grandmother is in prison?"  
  
Rachel grinned proudly. "The peg leg is the reason why she's in prison."  
  
I shook my head. "I don't want to hear any more." And I didn't. All I wanted to do was get the car back and get back to Los Angeles. We had spent an entire day in that stupid jail, and if we didn't get going tonight, then we would never be back to LA by Christmas Eve and I knew Scott had to be worried.  
  
The impound lot was surrounded by a high fence with wire at the top. We weren't climbing that thing. The gate had a thick chain closing it and a heavy lock. I could have picked it, but the tools I needed were in the car, which was on the other side of the fence. Rachel didn't seem bothered at all and that worried me even more.  
  
She started walking around the lot, following the fence line. The area she was heading was worse than the one we were leaving. "Do you know where you're going?" I whispered.  
  
She stopped and faced me, her hands on her hips. "You don't spend the first fifteen years of your life in this city and not break at least one car out of this place," she said firmly. "Trust me."  
  
That was usually the last words someone heard before an ambulance needed to be called. But I still went with her because I would much rather get killed trying to get the car, then have to call Scott and tell him I lost it. If things went badly here, the worst is that I would get shot and killed. If I had to call Scott, the pain was going to be much, much worse and last much, much longer. But Rachel really did know where she was going. There was a loose place in the fence at the bottom where someone could push it up and squeeze through. I got a couple of small scratches, but better me than the car. And then we were in. There was still the small matter of there being what seemed like a thousand rows to look up and down though.  
  
Rachel got us close to the guard shack and we hid behind a car. "I'm going to have to distract him," she whispered. "You go in and get the keys. The location should be attached to them."  
  
Wow. A plan from Rachel that didn't involve someone getting some booty. Of course she probably figured on getting some from me later for getting us out of this mess, but the rule about it not being in the car still stood. We hadn't come this far and end up ruining the car now. She started creeping away from me, hiding behind the cars. A few minutes later, I heard her giggle and dart out so that she was visible for a second and then gone the next. The guard was suddenly out of the shack and into the cars looking for her.  
  
I ran into the shack and started looking. There were keys everywhere. There was a box of them on the counter and rings of them on a wall. I wanted to kill the guy for not having the place organized. Keeping things neat was the key to getting them done prop.oh God, I was sounding like Scott. Just as I was about to scream, there was a box marked "new arrivals". I dug in it and found my keys. I suppressed a shriek of glee and got out. The lot number was wrapped around the ring on a piece of paper.  
  
Okay, time to get Rachel and get out of here. One wouldn't think one would miss a little shack in the middle of a junkyard, but trust me, I would have given anything to be there right now. As long as I had the Escalade and the jack in the back and Rachel in the front seat. I started prowling around the cars, trying to see if I could spot Rachel. I was so busy looking for her, I didn't notice anyone until a hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder.  
  
I was torn between just having a heart attack or having a heart attack while peeing all over myself. I don't spook easily, but you play hide and seek with an armed guard in the dark and have someone grab you and see what you do. I whipped around and there was Rachel. I equally wanted to kiss and kill her. Have to decide later though. She was a little dirty, but she was here now and we could get to the car and be on the road.  
  
I wasn't worried about the cops once we got out of the city. Before the Pulse, the computer systems would track the license plates and if you were in the same state, any police department would know someone else wanted you. Now, it's more confined to a city since it's harder to get in and out of a city anyway. I was lucky. Mr. T.A. Barron had lots of friends and they liked their cars delivered to them. Most of them were in the cities surrounding LA, but somehow he managed to get us passes for any city in the state of California. He might have been a drug dealer or a Mafia boss, but God bless that man.  
  
Rachel read the number on the keys and started off deeper into the lot. Neither of us was talking and I think I had stopped breathing a while back. The numbers on the pavement in front of the cars were getting closer to the number on the paper when we heard a noise and saw the flashlight. It beamed under the car and the guard shouted as he saw our feet.  
  
"Don't you move!"  
  
Rachel didn't hesitate. The guard had to run about six cars down to be able to cross the row and she used the time, grabbing me and yanking off my shirt. Okay, I've never been one to complain about a quickie, but this was ridiculous. I couldn't even protest. Rach had me pressed us against a truck, moving my hands to her rear as she started to kiss and grope me. The guy came around the corner and froze. I got it then. I could tell from his expression that he wasn't gay, and this was a scene he had prayed for a long time now. Rachel just smiled at him.  
  
"You.uh.not.um.you're trespassing," he managed to get out.  
  
Rachel gave him her best playful pout. "But that makes it all the more fun." She rubbed herself against me. I smiled, my lips feeling more like they were being stretched with wires than a real smile. Didn't matter. He wasn't looking above my neck anyway. Fine then. I wasn't going to be the only one here getting ogled. My hands slipped under her shirt, pulling it over her head.  
  
The guy nearly dropped his flashlight. Rachel doesn't wear a bra much. And they are magnificent. "Private property," he muttered, his eyes the size of saucers.  
  
Rachel started undoing the buttons on my pants. "We're not going to hurt anything," she protested prettily. The girl was an expert and had them sliding down my hips as she kissed my neck. I returned the favor by sliding down the zipper on her skirt and pulling it down with her panties. I swear the guy's leg was about to start thumping.  
  
"As a matter of fact," I added since Rach had her mouth full, "why don't you make sure we don't hurt anything. You can keep a very close eye on us if you want."  
  
The guard was over there in a second. He dropped his flashlight and grabbed Rachel, giving her a sloppy wet kiss while reaching out and groping me. I kicked off my pants before I tripped on them; they were loose enough to slide over my shoes and let Rach take over. She let him push her against the car, grabbing and groping. If I hadn't decided before what I was going to do, I did then. Nobody takes my girl from me without my permission. Rach knew I was bigger than she was and stronger. I picked up the dropped flashlight. It was one of those heavy mag lights. Rach saw me over his shoulder and moved her hands. I swung hard, cracking it against the base of his skull and he dropped like a stone.  
  
We reached down to grab our clothes when the first sounds of sirens carried on the wind. Crap. The guard must have called before he ran out into the yard. We picked up our clothes and just made a run for it, naked and bouncing in the breeze. Like a good dream, we turned the corner and there was the Escalade. There wasn't time to put on anything. We just jumped into the car, I glanced back to make sure the jack was still there, and started the car up. The engine roared to life and I slammed the gas.  
  
The cops were already approaching as the gate came into view. I had planned on picking the lock, but no guts, no glory. I gave silent thanks that the future owner of the car wanted a high-powered, tough car as I pushed the pedal to the floor. Rach screamed as we flew through the gate, breaking it open and ripping the side of it off the hinges. I cringed as it flew over the car, hearing the metal screeching against the paint. I would have panicked at the thought of what Scott was going to do to me, but the cops were there and it was a good time to flee in terror instead.  
  
Rachel had been continuously screaming and swearing as I barreled down side ways and alleys searching for something that mentioned heading south. I have to admit, I did my fair amount of shouting too, though. But, come one, I didn't know where I was or what I was doing, not to mention where I was going and there were police chasing me. And I don't know how, but finally we, well okay *I* managed to lose the cops and got on the main road leading back to LA. I had taken some pretty sharp twists and turns and I was positive we had a good ten to twenty minute jump on the cops, more since they didn't know which way I was headed.  
  
Granted, I was still driving as fast as I could. But I didn't want to chance anything and it's not as if our car stuck out since everyone drives fast. Although, on a side note, Rachel and I got quite a few second glances. But if I had been passed by a nice car with two very hot and very naked girls in the front I would have looked twice too. But Rachel was too scared for her life and I was to focused on getting as far away from San Francisco as possible to worry about putting anything back on.  
  
It was starting to get dark when we passed a sign advertising some gasoline. I looked at the tank. It was getting to empty really fast and I didn't exactly have time to stop at the one working gas station in San Francisco as I was being chased by the cops. I watched as the sign started to get smaller in the rearview mirror then made one of my famous executive decisions. I pulled into the far left lane and turned the wheel as hard as I could then back, performing a perfect 180 onto the shoulder. Scott and I had a lot of free time and we lived in a junk yard and we worked on cars and we did have some free time on our hands. He and I had spent hours upon hours of driving around the junkyard pulling 180's and 360's donuts, everything and anything. I was pretty confidant in the escalade to have good handling. I was right. This, of course, set Rachel on another screaming rampage and caused a few of the cars on the roads to honk and swerve.  
  
"What in the hell are you doing!?!?!" Rachel screeched, covering her eyes as I drove on the shoulder back tracking, "Do you want to get us killed?"  
  
"Don't worry." I supplied, "We've got to get gas and I saw a sign."  
  
Rachel nodded, her eyes wide, "You're insane!"  
  
I made a hard turn onto the exit, "No, we just need gas. Besides, I didn't' kill us did I? Didn't even get a scratch on the car."  
  
Rachel muttered something under her breath and shook her head. I glanced at her and pulled into a small gas station with quite a line.  
  
I pulled behind a small car in the line and looked at Rachel, "Put your clothes on while we wait. It's bad enough we've stayed on the interior like this for this long."  
  
Rachel nodded and grabbed her shirt and skirt, "Good thinking grabbing the clothes."  
  
"Yeah." I agreed as I slipped my shirt on then maneuvered into my pants, "Good idea on how to distract the guard. All I could think was 'run'. Your idea worked much better."  
  
Rachel glanced ahead, "You know, they might let us cut in line if we kept our clothes off."  
  
"No." I shook my head, "No more naked in the car."  
  
Rachel laughed, "Well, since we're not moving for now, I'm getting out of the car, you wan to join me?"  
  
I looked at the line and nodded and shut the car off, "We're not going anywhere for a bit, why not."  
  
My heart stopped when I saw the outside of the car. The whole front of the car looked ruined and there were scratches and dings all over. "Oh shit." I growled.  
  
Rachel grabbed my hand and nodded, "Yes. Very oh shit. Looked who just pulled in."  
  
I glanced up from the front of the car, not even daring to look at the hood and for the second time in that trip my heart stopped. Police. And not just one car, but two cars pulled into the station and right behind the Escalade.  
  
"Okay, don't panic. We're out of the city and they can't do anything. They don't know who we are or what we're doing. For all they care we're on our way to grandmothers."  
  
My comforts were stopped short when one of the policemen cleared his throat. "Y-yes?" I squeaked?  
  
The man adjusted his belt and then glanced at the car, "Nice car you've got here."  
  
Rachel squeezed my hand hard, causing me to whimper in pain, "Uh, yeah. Rich parents. It's one of five." She offered.  
  
"Hmmm." The man nodded, running a hand over his chin. Well, move up in the line with it, rich girl. You're holding up official police business."  
  
I looked to where the car in front of us had been. "Whoops." I smiled innocently, "Didn't even notice. Thank you Mr. Policeman." My heart slowly started beating again as I walked to the car and got in. They weren't after us, they just needed gas.  
  
"Holy shit." I said as I watched the man walk back to his squad car and pulled up in line, "I thought we were toast for sure."  
  
"Remind me to never go on a road trip with you ever." Rachel said breathlessly. "I can't take this stress."  
  
I laughed, "And you were the one who wanted to remain naked."  
  
"I never claimed to have the best ideas, though." She jokingly defended. "Now let's just fill up and get out of here. Rachel needs to get back into her comfort zone and that is definitely not with you in a car. Especially one I can't fool around in."  
  
I gave a laugh. If it weren't for her humor I don't know what I would have done. And I'm happy to report a perfectly fine rest of the trip home. I had even dropped Rach off and was back home in bed before the sun came up the next day, Christmas Eve. As I was getting into bed I chuckled as I thought over the trip. Definitely not a trip I was soon to forget. Besides, now all I had to do was keep Scott from seeing the car until that night. And hopefully he'd be too distracted by the present to notice the damage. Hopefully. 


	11. Chapter 11

I managed to keep Scott away from the car the next morning. I told him that his gift was in it and since I hadn't seen mine, it would be polite not to peek at his. He laughed and waved me off. Jerk. I knew why he was laughing. It just so happened that the drawer in his toolbox was unlocked. Okay, so it had some assistance, but the point is, Scott was supposed to protect it from me and he didn't. I opened it and, covered in plastic, was a black box. When I saw it, I stopped breathing for a minute. It was a ring box. There's no mistaking a black velvet box that size of being anything but. What the? I didn't wear jewelry. And what did he mean getting me a ring? I dug it out carefully and opened it, my heart in my throat. And then I wanted to kill Scott. There was a little note inside that just said "gotcha!"  
  
Anyway, the point is that I hadn't seen mine and so he shouldn't see his. For once, he agreed with me, no problems. Thank God. Since we weren't busy in the garage today and there was a bunch I had to do if I was going to cook, then he was going to have to hunt and gather the ingredients at the market. Scott was in a rare good mood and took off, letting me have a chance to see the Escalade in the daylight.  
  
Daylight didn't make the damage look better. As a matter of fact, it looked much, much worse. I wanted to cry or scream or kick something when I saw it, but kicking it was just one more thing I would have to repair. The windshield wasn't broken. If it were, then I would be toast. The one we had in there now had taken us three weeks to get. I thought I knew where to get a new grill and the bumper was just going to have to be muscled back into place. Plus a whole new paint job. The glossy black was popular, so we had plenty of that, but it was going to take a whole day, plus the overcoat and drying time. And then I had to fix the interior where the jack scratched it up. If Scott said one negative thing about that jack, it was going to be placed where God had not intended large jacks to go.  
  
I moved the car around back so Scott wouldn't notice. It took forty minutes, a good round of cursing, and the engine lift, but I managed to get the jack out of the back and hidden away until tonight. By the time I got done with everything, I really had to hurry to get the cooking stuff together for this evening. Rachel was coming over and we were going to have a real Christmas with the three of us.  
  
I had asked Scott if he would be okay with her coming over. It felt right that she should be there, she was my girlfriend, but if he would rather it be just us, then that was cool with me too. Scott had laughed and said there should always be the black sheep cousin that showed up at holidays, so of course she could come. That wasn't exactly the approval I wanted, but still, she was now a planned guest. I had wondered if Scott was going to have someone, but he had shrugged when I "casually" asked and said there wasn't anyone else he could think of here that he wanted to share the holiday with. I wondered if he was thinking about Mr. Disappearing Zane and reaffirmed that the guy was going to get a swift kick in the balls if we ever met.  
  
I had a bunch of pots and pans and other things I needed ready when Scott came back that afternoon. He found a ham. I wanted to know where he found the ham, but since it was still bloody, I decided to not ask questions and just figure out how to cook it instead. He had something else with him, but I couldn't make out what it was. I kept trying to look around the couch without him noticing when I realized he was wrapping something, but his rear was in the way the whole time. I would have thought something bad about him for blocking my view, but I had to admit, the view I did have wasn't bad at all. He was done and then slid it under the tree before running off to the garage. Finally! I finished putting the brown sugar on the ham and stuck it in the oven before looking. It wasn't very big, but you never knew what could be in a little package. I shook it lightly. There was glass in there. Okay. That was a start. And then I noticed the nametag. To Rachel, From Scott. The boy was trying to kill me.  
  
I spent the rest of the afternoon cooking various foods. There wasn't a lot of variety, but Scott had impressed me with his resourcefulness in getting everything I had asked for. It was late in the afternoon when Rachel came in, carrying a huge box. She opened the door, overbalanced to catch the box, and had Scott not been coming up behind her and caught her, would have landed in a heap. She gave him her best smile. I had seen gay men change their minds at that smile. Scott was more interested in the pie she had balancing on top of the box. Typical male. If there were one thing that could get his attention, it would be food. I grabbed the pie before Scott could scoop off some of the whipped cream.  
  
"Did you make this?" I asked Rachel.  
  
"Maybe I wanted to do something special for you," she flirted.  
  
"Rachel, if that's what you wanted, then you would have jumped naked out of that box," I countered. Scott was looking at the pie like some men look at their girlfriends. "If you made this, then chances are we'll end up in a hospital by morning."  
  
She pouted playfully. "I might have learned, just for you." I just stared. "I got it from Ian," she finally admitted.  
  
I let out a breath and then smacked Scott's hand that was reaching for the pie. "Don't even think about it, mister," I growled and then went back to the stove to take the ham out. I could trust Ian's cooking. "You get the table set up," I ordered Scott and then glanced at Rachel. She was sliding the box over to the tree. What was in there?  
  
"And you," I said to her, "just sit somewhere and don't accidentally mistake salt and rat poison again."  
  
She plopped on the couch and pouted. "That was just once!" she complained. "And you weren't even there."  
  
"No, but the way Ian tells it it's like I was there." I teased, "I mean, you put three people in the hospital."  
  
Rachel crossed her arms in a huff, "Well Ian wasn't one of them."  
  
"Right." I rolled my eyes, "He was the one driving all the people to the emergency room."  
  
"Okay, that's enough." Scott interrupted, "Rachel, no cooking. Kat," he eyed the food, "Get moving."  
  
I shot Scott a glare before turning back to the food, "Just keep her away from the food if you want to live."  
  
"Remind me why I decided to do this." Rachel muttered.  
  
Scott sighed, "Food. Presents. Family. Holidays. Christmas. Anything ringing a bell?"  
  
"Right." Rachel stood and started pacing then stopped, "Speaking of which, why don't we break out some of the traditional festivities early?"  
  
Scott raised an eyebrow, "Traditional festivities such as?"  
  
Rachel grinned and pulled a small sprig of leaves out of her bag, "Such as mistletoe!"  
  
"Excuse me while I retreat into my cave." Scott said quickly before retreating.  
  
"Chicken." I called to him as a small chuckle escaped my lips before sliding the last dish into the oven, "Okay, food is all set to cook. Ham needs to be in the longest and we need to keep track of the mashed potatoes and the stuffing. I refuse to let them burn."  
  
Rachel saluted me and gave an 'aye-aye capt'n' look before sauntering my way, "How about a little mistletoe for my favorite chef?" She held the sprig up over her head.  
  
I grinned and gave her a soft kiss under the mistletoe, "Thank you for showing up."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Rachel laughed cheerfully, "I wouldn't miss your food and presents for the world."  
  
I gave Rach a warm smile before winking and going into the garage. Scott had opened up the hood to a random car and was tinkering around as I came up behind him. "You could have just refused Rachel's mistletoe offer as opposed to hiding away with the cars."  
  
Turning he shrugged, "I know you're dating her, but she's not my sort of thing to fool around with at all." He looked back at the car, "And I figured that there's always something out here that is my sort of thing to fool around with in the mean time."  
  
I placed my hands on the side of the car and leaned back, "Meanwhile you leave us poor women folk to fend for ourselves?"  
  
Scott smirked, "Since when do you and Rachel worry about having a man?"  
  
Laughing I nudged him, "Maybe we're up for a little excitement. It is the holidays, after all."  
  
"Oh really?" Scott's voice rose a bit, and a slight tinge of pink colored his cheeks.  
  
I placed a hand on his shoulder lightly, "I'm pretty sure Rachel has no objections but if it makes you feel better, I'll check with her first."  
  
Scott's eyebrows rose again, "Is that an invitation?"  
  
Pushing away from the car I winked at him before walking back inside, "Only if you set the table."  
  
I'm not sure what got into me. Blame it on the holidays, I suppose. I was feeling very friendly. And I was happy. I had Rachel on the couch and Scott in the garage. My own little twisted family. I looked in the oven before turning to the couch, "So we've got about an hour before anything is done, what do we do?"  
  
Rachel grinned at me. "I can think of something to do while he's out," she said suggestively.  
  
I shook my head. "Oh no, not that," I replied emphatically. "Scott and I have come to an agreement on that sort of thing. And none of us are drunk enough to break it yet."  
  
Rachel laughed. "You just need to invite him in so we can get him over his little hang-ups."  
  
I couldn't help but smile. "I didn't know you ever thought of Scott in that way."  
  
She looked at me incredulously. "Have you ever looked at him? The boy's hot when he wants to be." She sat back on the couch and gave me an appraising look. "How come you two never hooked up?"  
  
"Hello, I do have a girlfriend," I reminded her. "Besides, Scott's like an older brother or something." I was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the conversation. When I had been teasing Scott outside, it was just that, teasing. He knew I wasn't serious and I knew I wasn't serious. I had slept in the same bed with him for almost a year now and nothing had ever happened.  
  
"A really hot, unrelated brother," Rachel clarified. "And you're not exclusively into girls. I taught you too well to limit yourself now. You know I don't mind some extra spice as long as I'm getting into the mix."  
  
"Drop it," I ordered. "Even if there was a remote shred of being into that idea, there's still Scott. How many guys would have two babes like us in the house, cooking for him and still hide in the garage until the food comes?"  
  
"One that hasn't been properly inspired," she countered and then, mercifully, dropped the subject. Instead we played cards for a while. Rachel wanted strip poker, but I vetoed that one. The girl was determined to get me into trouble. Finally the timer on the oven went off and we could eat. I yelled at Scott to come in and started doing the final touches.  
  
Scott came in from the garage and set the table as I'd asked him, without a single complaint. He finished just in time to put the food on the table and start digging in. Rachel dug around in the huge box she had brought over and produced some white wine to go with our meal and our night officially began. As always, the food was fantastic, both Rachel and Scott letting me know their opinion of the meal with their moans of delight. Dinner conversation was light and happy with a few quick innuendoes and winks from Rachel. It was great, really. Or at least it was great until it was time to clear the table and all three of us were too stuffed to do anything but offer a few moans. I leaned back in my chair and drank the last bit of wine in my cup. Scott had managed to find his way to the bed in the corner and looked as if he was already asleep and Rachel had maneuvered to the couch. I glanced at the table. Well, worst case scenario, the food would be left out and we'd pick at it for leftovers later on. I set my cup down and stumbled to the bed. Sleep did sound oddly good at this time. And I admit to being beat. After frantically searching for some sort of wrapping for Rachel's present and then figuring out what I would need to fix the Escalade, and then preparing a full meal, I deserved a nap before a night of presents, laughs, and whatever else Rachel could whip up.  
  
I fell onto the bed and crawled under the covers, my eyes fluttering closed as soon as my head hit my pillow. A few minutes wouldn't hurt.  
  
I was positive I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I felt someone shaking me. I absently smacked at the hands touching me, muttering something about great plagues to come if they didn't leave me alone. Then the hands weren't shaking, but doing something far more pleasant. I gasped, my eyes shooting open. Rachel was standing there, grinning at me. I sat up and glanced at the clock, about to complain that she could have let me sleep for a little bit, but the clock claimed I had been out for two hours. Stupid, lying clock.  
  
"Wake up," Rachel whined. "Scott needs something." I glanced over. Sure enough, the other side of the bed was empty.  
  
"What does he want?" I muttered, falling back onto the bed.  
  
"I don't know!" she said. "He just made a noise and pointed."  
  
I blinked. "He's in the garage?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Of course he's in the garage. I've been in there with him for an hour trying to get him to do something else and then he made that noise at me."  
  
"What kind of noise?" Rachel did an imitation of one of Scott's grunts. "He wants some water," I translated, closing my eyes and stretching. She was still standing over me looking confused when I opened my eyes.  
  
"Water?"  
  
"Well, either he's hungry or he's thirsty. It's a little hard to tell since I didn't hear the exact grunt. But start with the water. It's easier."  
  
Rachel just stared at me for a long minute. "I'm going to tell him that you're up and ready for presents." She turned on her heel and went back into the garage. I thought about calling after her and trying to find out what I had just said that upset her, but I didn't. She would deny being upset, despite the fact I knew her well enough to know when she was unhappy. It didn't happen often, but she would get cranky. I usually knew why and could cheer her up. This time I was still too full and sleepy and.presents! There were presents to be had. Rachel could wait. She would be cheer up anyway when we started unwrapping.  
  
I clambered out of bed and washed my face, trying to wake up so I wouldn't be all sleepy and cute when we were trying to unwrap. I had a minute alone before Scott and Rach came back in and for a second, I could only stare in wonder around me. When I was little, I had dreamed at Christmas of a big house with lots of decorations and a table covered in food. And then everyone would gather at the huge, beautifully decorated tree with hundreds of presents under it. Mom would have gotten married to this wonderful man that had asked me to call him Dad from the start. I would have brothers and sisters and we would open gifts until late into the night. And then we would all get into our matching pajamas and be sent to bed, excited to wake up the next morning for a big Christmas Day breakfast and then play with our dozens of new toys.  
  
That had been the dream. The reality was that I was in a little shack that had lights strung around it. There was a small rickety table with the food on it and a scraggly tree in the corner with just a few things under it. But there was a heart to it. Decorating had been done not because the neighbors expected it, but because Scott knew it would make me happy. I didn't have a Mom and Dad and siblings, but I had two people that I cared about more than anyone else in the world. Not because we were related and had to care, but because we had grown together and become part of each other's lives. I had cooked dinner for those people because I did love them and wanted them to have a nice holiday too. Not because it was expected, but because I truly wanted them too. And so what if the tree was small. Scott and I had decorated it ourselves, even making the ornaments. I didn't have what I had dreamt about. I had something better.  
  
My moment of peace was short-lived when Rachel came back in, dragging Scott. He was trying to finish wiping his hands and keep hold of the cooler at the same time while Rach was pushing him from behind. "Come on!" she squealed. "The sooner we unwrap, the sooner we can play with everything." I cringed, wondering what she meant by that. Please let her have behaved, I prayed and then thought about Rachel. Let her have not gone too overboard, I amended.  
  
Scott smiled at me and opened the cooler as we sat on the floor by the tree. And then I was the one squealing when he pulled out a gallon jug of eggnog. I love the stuff. Hadn't had it in forever, but I still loved it. I could probably take out the whole gallon myself. I remembered mentioning it once to Scott and I couldn't believe that he remembered. How could he have remembered something like that? We were working on the cars. Did he actually listen to me when we were out in the garage? If that was true, I was going to have to watch what I said. But that was for later. Right now I had Rach and Scott and a big glass of eggnog. Life was good. Mr. T.A. Barron's goons could burst in right then with machine guns because the green on a car wasn't the exact right shade and I wouldn't care. I would go happy.  
  
All of us, even Scott looked like a little kid as we sat there for a minute, smiling and downing the eggnog. "Who first?" I asked. We looked at each other hesitantly.  
  
Finally Scott leaned forward and grabbed a gift and handed it to Rachel. "Merry Christmas," he muttered, looking vaguely embarrassed. What *had* they talked about in the garage?  
  
She opened it up with a big smile and then gasping with delight when she saw the contents. "Whiskey! Oh I love whiskey! Drinks all around!" She shrieked happily, holding up an expensive looking bottle of the original Jack Daniels. After digging a bit more she shrieked again, "I've always wanted one of these!" Scott and I exchanged a warm smile as she held up a pink tinted shot glass with her name engraved in silver letters. I had been the one to help Scott with the last part of the gift. He had said that a bottle of whiskey wasn't enough. Rachel probably would have been okay with it though. She was beaming, and she hadn't even gotten to my present yet.  
  
Rachel studied the small glass for bit before grabbing a small box and dropping it in my lap. "You're really going to want to fuck me now."  
  
I blinked and looked up at her with wide eyes, "Excuse me?"  
  
She simply giggled, "Well, trust me, would you rather it happen now or later. I mean, I know you're going to just love it!"  
  
I glanced at Scott, who was a nice shade of red and trying to appear calm, and then shook my head and winked, "You can't just rush into these things. And I don't even know what it is."  
  
"Well, then open it silly!" she encouraged, taking my hand and placing it on top of the present.  
  
I laughed and ripped the paper off. It was a small cardboard box. I have to admit, I was clueless as to what was in it too. I mean, could imagine here getting me something useful for her and me time, but nothing like that would fit into this small of a box. Slowly I opened the little box and saw a piece of white paper. My brow furrowed and I looked up at her, "Gee, thanks Rach. Just what I've always wanted. A piece of paper."  
  
"Turn over the piece of paper, goofball." She rolled her eyes.  
  
I did and then my brow furrowed even more. "I don't get it." The other side of the paper had a picture of a cartoon red devil twirling a halo around his middle finger. It was cute and looked as if it had been hand drawn, but I was at a loss as to why I was getting a piece of paper with a picture on it.  
  
She sighed loudly, "Would you look harder?"  
  
Scott even looked a little curious as I dug deeper. Another slip of paper appeared and my eyes widened. It was a gift certificate to the "Twizted Underground". A local tattoo parlor. "You got me a tattoo?"  
  
She nodded with an excited grin, "Yes! And it's going to be of."  
  
I handed Scott the piece of paper and gave Rachel a big hug. I had wanted another tattoo; one that was done by my choice, not one that was influenced by drunkenness. And Rachel had picked a kick ass tattoo. It was the exact type that I would have picked for myself.  
  
"Hell yeah." I smiled and then looked under the tree, "Hmm, Rachel, I think that multicolored one is for you."  
  
Rachel grinned and grabbed the gift, pausing when she realized what it was wrapped in, "Oooh! She squealed. "I like!" She held up several variously colored undergarments. And then a black and red teddy, "Kat! I love it!" She blew a kiss my way and waved the teddy in Scott's direction, "What do you think?"  
  
Scott had grabbed my glass of eggnog, which I would impale him later for, and was mid drink. He continued drinking then wiped his mouth before smiling, "Well, I think it'll look great." He looked at me. "Though I hope you have mine wrapped in something a little more traditional."  
  
Now, I realize it was forced, but still. He didn't have to. He was lightening up, which made for good times. "I don't know," I teased back. "I bet you would look great in a thong." He burst into laughter, managing to make Rachel pause in opening the rest of her gift. She looked at me, a little startled. I had heard Scott laugh like that a few times. She hadn't.  
  
Rachel's next squeal overrode his laughter though as she opened the box. "A portable CD player!" she cried with glee. "I've been wanting one of these forever!"  
  
"I know," I replied with a smile. "That's why I got it for you." She gave me a smile and a wink that told me of all the things she was going to be doing to my body later in thanks.  
  
"Okay!" she giggled. "Scott's turn!"  
  
I was curious about this. She had refused to tell me what she had gotten for Scott. The box was about eighteen inches high and three feet across. If it had been much bigger I would have been worried there was a girl inside. I knew from her smile alone there was something in there I would end up apologizing for, I was sure. But when Scott opened it, a big smile spread across his face.  
  
"This is awesome, Rachel," he said, making her beam as he reached in and tugged out a new toolbox. He set it down and continued to admire it. "One of the drawers on mine broke the other day and it won't open all of the way. You must be psychic."  
  
She smiled wider. "Well, yours was all scratched up and greasy." Scott glanced at me, trying to hold back a laugh. Having a toolbox like that was a sign that you were a real mechanic, not just someone that had the tools for status. Rachel didn't notice the subtle glance and continued, "but you have to look in the bottom drawer."  
  
Scott opened it and instantly color flooded his face. "Um.well.that's.interesting," he managed to stutter out.  
  
Rachel laughed and I knew the thing I would be apologizing for was in that bottom drawer. "Well, I wanted to make sure there was something for every tool, including your favorite one." If possible, Scott's face got even redder. I peeked over Rach's shoulder and saw what was in the drawer. She had put in a bunch of porno magazines. It went from some artistic ones to ones that would make me blush. And on top, an accident I am sure, was one of two girls and a guy all making out. Scott looked up at me, realized that I had nothing to do with this and then closed the drawer.  
  
"I.thanks Rach," he said simply. She laughed again, enjoying this thoroughly.  
  
"Okay, my turn!" I said quickly to get things back into the holiday mood. I jumped up. "I'll be back in just a second with yours," I said to Scott. He went to say something, but stopped when I headed towards the garage instead of the front. I rolled my eyes. "No strippers, I swear."  
  
He smiled, shook his head, and waved me on. I came back a few minutes later, dragging the jack by the handle. I had just wrapped a bunch of paper around it and left the handle sticking out. Rachel wasn't there and Scott looked a little flustered. I looked at him questioningly.  
  
"She ran to the bathroom with one of the things you bought her," he said quietly. I smiled. His face hardened.  
  
"She's playing," I said. "I told her no earlier and now she's being a tease."  
  
Scott relaxed. "Can you tell her to not?"  
  
I shrugged. "Sure. But we are talking about Rachel. If I try to talk her out of this, she'll find something worse. Cheer up, Sparky. You're going to spend Christmas with two girls, one of which is wearing sexy lingerie. That's got to be in one of your new magazines."  
  
Just then Rachel emerged from the bathroom in the black and red teddy and struck a pose in the doorframe. Oh yeah. That's the kind of hot I'm talking about. I picked good. I mean, seriously, for someone that doesn't care what she's got underneath as long as it holds up and covers what it's supposed to, I picked some seriously good stuff. Rachel was, by legal standards, covered. But the way it left enough uncovered and showed off every curve made her hotter than had she walked out stark naked. She twirled around, the sheer robe trimmed in fake fur twirling about and I got a glimpse of the black lace against her back and thong covering her bottom. Even Scott had noticed how hot my girlfriend was. It was the first time he had ever really checked Rachel out.  
  
"I think you're drooling," I whispered.  
  
"So are you," he whispered back, making us both laugh.  
  
Rachel sauntered out. "Now this is a happy holiday," she grinned and then tucked the stem of the mistletoe into her cleavage. I couldn't help but laugh as she settled down between us.  
  
Scott shook his head. "Okay, now that I've gotten to see her unwrapped, may I?" He gestured towards what I was dragging. I pushed it towards him. He ripped off the paper and then stopped dead, looking at me with wide eyes.  
  
"Kat.there's no way! Do you know how many places I looked?"  
  
"Yeah!" I said, grinning like a loon at his pleasure.  
  
"I went everywhere! There wasn't one of these to be found in this city!"  
  
"I know!" I laughed.  
  
He looked at me suspiciously. "I thought you were going to a party the other day."  
  
"I lied!" I chirped. "We went to San Francisco. Rach had a friend that had one."  
  
Scott was too happy with his gift to be mad about a little white lie. "This is great, Kat," he said, staring at it. "I can't believe you did this. I mean.this has got to be the best gift I've ever gotten."  
  
He smiled at me warmly and I knew it wasn't just a rather expensive gift. Yeah, it was something he had really wanted, but it was the fact I had to search high and low and taken a lot of time to get it for him. For once, it was the thought that really did count more than the gift. I couldn't believe how happy I was seeing him so pleased with the jack. I just hoped he remembered that when he saw the Escalade.  
  
"Okay," he said. "Kat's turn. He fished under the tree and got the last unwrapped thing. It was a small box, only a couple of inches long. After how much he had hidden it and teased me about not being able to find it, I was wildly curious.  
  
I opened it up, blinking a couple of times in confusion. Keys? Two keys were on a key chain, lying on some white cotton. Okay. Scott was looking at me with such anticipation; I didn't want to act like I was clueless. And then I noticed the key chain had been flipped over. I righted it and all the breath whooshed out of my body. The logo on the key chain was two crossed flags. I knew those flags. I knew that logo. It only meant one thing. Corvette.  
  
"Scott?" I squeaked, praying I hadn't gotten it wrong.  
  
"Want to go out front?" he asked. I was out the door in a flash, stopping dead at the sight in the yard.  
  
A 1972 Corvette was sitting in the yard. I couldn't breathe. A Corvette. *My* Corvette. Rachel came up behind me and made a disappointed noise. "It's not shiny," she commented.  
  
It wasn't. The fiberglass was cracked and broken in several places, one of the body panels was completely missing, the paint was scratched and peeling and the tires were bald, I noted as I gingerly circled the car. I knew the engine was going to have to be rebuilt. Maybe the transmission as well. I opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. The leather was cracked and torn, one of the t-tops cracked and the dashboard was buckled and broken. The interior smelled like pee and vomit and I was positive there were rat droppings on the floorboard.  
  
I looked out the milky window at Scott and Rachel. Rachel was still confused as to my ecstasy but my eyes met Scott's and he understood perfectly. I wasn't seeing the car as it was. It currently was a piece of crap. I was seeing it as it would be. Not broken down in a junkyard, but whole, shining with black, no, silver paint as I cruised the cliffs near the ocean at sunset. I could see the interior clean and new and hear the refurbished engine growling when I pressed the accelerator. And it would be mine. My work and sweat and blood would go into rebuilding this baby. I would bring her back to life.  
  
"I am going to name you Lucy," I whispered to the car, running my fingers over the cracked steering wheel. "And you will be dubbed Lucy and you will be mine." My face lit up with a grin, "You shall be my Lucy."  
  
I bounded out of the car and threw my arms around Scott, giving him a huge hug. "Thank you," I whispered in his ear. "How did you know?"  
  
He shrugged. "It's the same model and year as the first big restoration we did together. You talked about how much you loved it for a week."  
  
I pulled back, looking at his suspiciously. "You actually listen to my babbling in the garage?"  
  
He gave me one of his characteristic shrugs. "Just because I don't act like I'm listening doesn't mean I'm not."  
  
I smiled at him sweetly. "If you ever touch my new baby, I'm likely to kill you."  
  
Scott returned the smile. "I understand."  
  
"Um," Rachel interrupted, "As soon as it's fixed, can we have sex in it?"  
  
I laughed and then realized I was still clinging to Scott. I would have let him go earlier, but he was still holding me as well. Oh boy. That was strange. "Sure," I said to her, sliding away from Scott.  
  
Her face brightened. "Great! Group hug!" she yelled and then practically jumped on us so that we were all three embracing. I thought Scott would be embarrassed with a nearly naked Rachel in his arms, but he was laughing. She pulled back and put her hands on her hips. "Okay," she declared firmly. "Nobody is going to be working on a car tonight. I've got a bottle's worth of celebration in there and I say we get started on it now."  
  
I grinned and looked at Scott. He gave me a "what the hell" kind of shrug and we let ourselves get led back into our little shack. 


	12. Chapter 12

Rachel ended up having more than just a bottle of celebration. She added in music, confetti, and eggnog with a little Jack added in - which happened to be my personal favorite. Now, after a few shots of Jack Daniels and enhanced nog, all three of us were laughing and grinning stupidly about. But I wasn't near drunk enough for Rachel's idea of truly getting into the Christmas spirit. You see, most people would think caroling, going out to help the poor, or decorating someone's house, but Rachel, well, Rachel's idea had to do with traditional mistletoe usage.  
  
Now, when she first brought up the idea, I figured, hey, no big deal. She would hold it up and we would kiss, Scott would roll his eyes and drink a bit more and we'd all end up in a fit of giggles. But after Rachel and I had our kiss of traditionalism, Rachel swaggered over to Scott and held up the mistletoe. He glanced around with a silly grin on his face then gave a drunken shrug and, get this, gave Rachel a pretty wet and sloppy kiss. Now, if I was shocked, Rachel was damn near stunned still when Scott leaned back into his seat with a huge grin on his face. I mean, sure, he was drunk, but I didn't think he was THAT drunk. I guess he was just doing what she had said. He was getting into the Christmas spirit. Yeah, well, Father Christmas never told me that a small twinge of jealously came along with getting into the spirit.  
  
Anyway, after that Rachel was too disorientated to continue with the mistletoe. I think she enjoyed the kiss too much or something. Cause, she flopped down on the couch next to me and with her huge doe eyes she drunkenly slured, "Kat. You have *got* to try that. Boy over there has lips on him like I ain't never felt before. And trust me," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "I've been around the block before, you know." She grinned and went into a fit of giggles, "a few times even."  
  
I just smiled and patted her head, "Whatever you say my drunken idiot."  
  
Rachel simply shrugged and gave a grin, "You know, I hear drunk sex is all the rage these days." And of course, she had to move her body towards me and pull me into a rather great kiss.  
  
A rather great kiss that was going to go much farther if I didn't do something. Although, in my half-drunken state, I didn't see myself pulling away any time soon. Maybe ever. At least, not until Rachel pulled away. I looked up, confused and what do you know, there was Scott.  
  
"You know, Kat and I have this agreement," he began to Rachel, "See, we keep our personal intimate lives to ourselves." He straightened up and tried to look serious, pointing his finger at her "And you're breaking that agreement, missy miss."  
  
Of course Rachel just blinked at him, undaunted. "Oh, well. I don't like that agreement." She looked at me for help. I only provided a shrug and a small yawn. Giving an exasperated sigh she shook her head and grabbed the mistletoe again.  
  
My thoughts: "Shit". No, I think they were "Oh shit."  
  
I knew what was coming before Scott did, and I tried to move away, but Rachel grabbed my wrist in a death grip while she slurred to Scott, "What if this personal intimacy became personal for you too. I mean, I hear that threesomes are popular this time of year. And what's better than us?"  
  
Scott nudged Rachel and grinned, "You're funny, you know that?"  
  
By this time I had put my head in my hands. My head was starting to hurt and Rachel was actually going insane. Or maybe she was driving me insane.  
  
"Rachel." I gave a warning.  
  
"Kat shh." She waved me off before turning back to Scott, "Now, seriously Mr. Lips. How'd you like to get in on this action."  
  
Scott rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm. I dunno." There was a bit of silence then he leaned back and spread his arms, "Whatever you do is fine as long as I'm not put in the middle of it. I don't care." Of course, this brought Scott to a fit of chuckles and snickers.  
  
I couldn't believe it. Rachel had finally got to him. Was everyone losing it? I mean, something was going on and no one cared to inform me.  
  
Rachel though, she must have been feeling pretty good, cause next thing I knew she had gotten up and pushed Scott and I together, and was holding the mistletoe above our heads, "Your turn then!" she declared.  
  
Scott's eyes got real big and I'm pretty sure mine were just as wide. I mean, sure, we were drunk, but, even if something would ever have happened, drunk and mistletoe were not how I pictured this. Not that I had pictured anything, but.I mean, well even Rachel was there. I mean.oh god.well, anyway. I glanced up at Rachel who looked as if she was going to smack someone if we didn't just get it over with. So I did what any person influenced by alcohol and Rachel would do, I looked at Scott and shrugged, "Let's just get it over with." He sort of half shrugged and then it happened.  
  
We both leaned closer and, voila. That's all she wrote.  
  
It wasn't anything special. It was just a soft kiss. It lasted maybe three seconds, maybe five or six, or.well anyway. There was no tongue. Which was good. I mean I don't know if I could have handled that. Because, well, damn. Rachel was right. He had a good set of lips on him. And let me tell you something, it wasn't like any kiss I had ever had with anyone, and we all know I've had my fair share of kisses. I still don't' quite get it, but again, let's move on. As suspected, we pulled apart, both not sure of what had just happened and not sure we wanted to remember either. It might have been funny if I was on the outside looking in, because the second we split, we both sighed and took a big drink of eggnog mixed with whiskey.  
  
That kiss turned out to be the end to all soberness in both of us. Also the end to any clear memories, as I recall. Well, okay, the true last thing I recall was Scott and I on the bed. No, we weren't going it at, he had all but passed out and Rachel was asleep, squished up as far on the other side of the bed from Scott as possible. Nothing against Scott, that's just the way she slept even with me. I was just getting into bed as usual when Scott rolled over onto me and said, "I really liked kissing you."  
  
I froze, even in my thick drunkenness, what he said hit some sort of nerve, but I figured I'd chalk it up to everyone going nuts. I tried to push his away from me but he buried his head into my hair, "And did I ever tell you that you smell really good?" he gave a sigh, rubbing his cheeks against the long dark strands. "My Kat. She smells good. Like motor oil and vanilla."  
  
Now, really, I could have been offended, but I figure that motor oil and vanilla for him was like apples or berries for other guys. I was going to say something, but the next moment he dropped his head to my chest and officially passed out.  
  
Last thing I remember thinking was trying to figure out if I was going to kick Rachel's ass, or thank her the next morning.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
This was now the second time that I had woken up feeling as if my head was going to explode. And something was poking me. I was going to kill someone. I was sure. Of course, then I realized what was poking me and I stiffened. Wait, bad choice of words. At some point in the night, Rachel had decided to get a little friendlier and moved so that her front was plastered to my back and currently her hands were on me, in a way that I'm going to chalk up as my wake up call. Now, normally I wouldn't mind such a wake up, I mean, what woman would? But see, some how during the night, I had curled up next to Scott. Currently I was in a comfortable cuddle against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder and let me tell you, that wasn't a banana in his pocket.  
  
But, it's not like we'd never ended up sleeping close to each other before. And yeah, he's a guy and these things happen every morning to him. I knew that and it didn't bother me every other night we slept in the same bed. But, those times he hadn't had his arm sprawled over me and Rachel. At least, if my guess was right, his hand was right on Rachel's ass. Her bare ass, that is, thanks to my brilliant idea of getting her a teddy.  
  
I wasn't sure what to do, I mean, I was in an awkward position, my face was pressed up against Scott, and if I moved, he would wake up, but Rachel was still doing things that I wasn't quite comfortable with while in bed with Scott. I slowly slid my hand to one of hers and gripped her wrist tightly. Please let her be asleep, I thought. She did stuff like this in her sleep all the time. And I would have liked to extricate myself quickly and quietly. Rach would think it was hilarious. I still had to live and work with the guy pressed against my other side. I let Rach's hand go tentatively and it promptly moved again, landing on Scott's hip. Had we not been pressed together so close, I know what it would have gone for. I swear, Rachel has sexual radar or something.  
  
I guess the touch woke Scott because I felt his whole body jerk slightly. Bad move. It was grinding things into me uncomfortably. His eyes opened, blinked a couple of times and then he jerked back from me. Not that he could jerk far. His arm was still stretched out and I realized that Rachel was using it as a pillow too.  
  
Scott looked like a small animal caught in a trap, but he was blushing beet red. I guess the JD hadn't wiped out his memories of the night before either. I wanted to say something, but for once I couldn't think of a single word. The banana still poking me in the thigh wasn't helping either. I tried to discreetly scoot back but I had a sleeping Rachel blocking a graceful move. Scott realized why I was trying to move and his blush turned almost purple.  
  
About this time Rachel's hand took advantage of me not guarding the territory and started working on going back to those pleasant things that it had been doing earlier. Scott glanced away and finally pulled away from Rachel and I completely. "I...um...doughnuts," he muttered, crawling out of bed. Doughnuts? Oh. He had grabbed his keys and some cash. He meant the Dunkin' Donuts. It was like a twenty-minute drive to get there though. Yeah, twenty minutes there, half an hour in line, twenty to get back. Hopefully that would be enough time for Mr. Reese to stop letting the world know he was quite happy with the way we had woken up.  
  
As soon as Scott walked out the door, I spoke up. "How long have you been awake?"  
  
"I don't know. Half hour? Fifteen minutes?" Rachel grinned.  
  
I closed my eyes, "Oh god."  
  
She glanced at where Scott had been then winked, "My God too."  
  
"I can't believe you were doing that," I complained. "Scott was right there."  
  
"If you hadn't been in the way, I would have gotten him in on the fun," she replied, in her best "duh" tone. "You know I'm an equal opportunity kind of girl."  
  
I sat up, cradling my head. My head was pounding, my eyes felt like they were going to explode and Rach had no idea why it was a bad idea for me, her and Scott to have a little romp together. She was trying to tug me back down as it was. "I have something that will help that hangover," she teased.  
  
No way. I was not going to have Scott walk in again. If he did...and after last night. No, no chances were going to be taken on this. Instead I rolled over and whispered a little suggestion in her ear about an interesting idea for some morning sex. She didn't think about it, but I knew it would take much less time that way and there would only be room for two no matter what.  
  
Of course, Rachel being one to never turn down sex, agreed and Lucy was christened. It went rather well, I might add. Lucy was definitely a sex car.  
  
By the time Rachel and I had christened Lucy I figured it was time for me to do little work on Lucy. I mean, the whole point of opening presents the night before Christmas is so you can play with your toys the day of Christmas, right?  
  
I moved off of Rachel and put on my designated work coveralls. By the time I was back outside and had the hood up on the car Rachel had gotten dressed (in her regular clothes, though she was wearing some of her new sexy undies beneath them) and was doing her nails. I was completely shocked when I opened up the hood too. Scott hadn't mentioned this at all.  
  
I would have figured that the engine had been replaced at some point. But that was an original Chevy 454 big block under the hood and it didn't look like it was in too bad of condition. Hell, I might even be able to drive it now. I shivered, imagining putting in the Z06 modifications into this baby. But what if it still had matching numbers? I stood there for a moment, contemplating all of the possibilities. I could restore it back to showroom status. Or I could make it into a work of art. Chop the top just an inch or two, grind the door handles. Custom paint job and enhancements and a whole custom interior. I shivered. I loved my car already. And Scott. And Rachel. And the world was a happy shiny place everywhere.  
  
That's what I was thinking as I started poking into the engine, looking at what else needed to be done. I was so happy the workload was light right now. I would have days and nights to be working on Lucy. Rachel wasn't going to like it, but she wouldn't complain when we were ripping up the road with over 400 horsepower propelling us. Lucy had been through some hard times, but she wasn't a wreck. I was about to try and start her up when the yelling started.  
  
Rachel and I both jumped, Rachel's nail polish spilling down her leg. I started running towards the sound of violent cursing, pulling up short when I realized who it was that was cursing and where it was coming from.  
  
I would have been able to stay hidden around the side of the building had Rachel not plowed into me, knocking me forward. Scott whipped around, his face dark with fury as he looked at me and then back to the Escalade. Stupid! I had let myself get so distracted with Lucy; I didn't even think to move the stupid Escalade.  
  
Spilled coffee and a dropped bag of doughnuts were at Scott's feet as he snarled at me, "Kat, what the hell?"  
  
"Scott, it wasn't my fault," I tried to protest, but he cut me off.  
  
"I sure as hell didn't do it!" he yelled. "You drove it and it came back like this."  
  
"Damn, Scott," Rachel piped up, "It really wasn't her fault. I was there; she drove ten miles under the speed limit. I swear, it was worse than driving with my grandma, and besides, she wouldn't even let me fool around with her at all in it. The other guy hit her."  
  
I blinked and looked at Rachel. She looked so easy and natural, you would have no idea she wasn't telling the truth. "I mean, what could she do, call the cops and trade insurance information? And since we were getting your Christmas present, you really need to chill."  
  
That calmed Scott down somewhat. He had preached many times that we don't take cars that are meant for customers. He took a deep breath and picked up the doughnuts. The coffee was a loss but the bag had kept the doughnuts in. "It's okay," he said, more like he was trying to convince himself. "There's time for you to fix it."  
  
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Of course I was going to fix it." And then a thought occurred to me. "By myself?" I squeaked.  
  
Scott shot me a devilish grin. He wasn't going to help me fix the Escalade and I couldn't get started on Lucy until I got the car for a customer done. "Want a doughnut?" he asked Rachel. "I don't think Kat's going to be coming back in for a while."  
  
Rachel grinned and gave me a quick kiss. "You should have said yes earlier," she whispered. "He would have been so grateful for what we would have done to him, he'd have fixed it on his own." She laughed and then sauntered back into the shack. Scott hadn't heard what Rach said, but he gave me another smile and headed in after her.  
  
I thought about a doughnut break, but I sighed and went into the garage to start getting the painting stuff in order. Scott was right. It was absolute blackmail, but he knew I would put in overtime to get the Escalade started before working on Lucy. Oh well. Lucy had waited years for me to find her. She could wait another day. And as I got everything together and reflected, I had to admit, this was still the best Christmas of my life. 


	13. Chapter 13

Things were kind of weird after Christmas. It settled down eventually, but there were a few weeks there that were filled with more awkward silences between me and Scott more than any talking or even grunting for that matter. Rachel didn't understand why we were so weirded out. We got drunk and had some fun. What was more natural than that? Sometimes I wondered about Rach, I really did. Scott and I tried to talk about it once and ended up doing little more than stuttering and stammering out things that made no sense. In the end, we silently agreed to pretend it never happened. If we didn't, then I didn't know if we could continue to live together anymore. And that would be the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Business stayed on the slow side too. We were just making enough to pay the "permit" fees to the cops and a few extras like food. I wasn't complaining though. We had a big wad saved from the other cars we had done and the Escalade was going to bring in another bundle. Speaking of that beast, I did manage to get the Escalade finished up before the new owner came to take it. And no, Scott didn't help a bit. He pointed and laughed a few times, so he knew I was working on it. And he could have at least helped me tape the car up, but no, he just rattled around with our old service truck and made my poor, sweet Lucy wait for Mama's attention. I was on that Escalade until I was ready to drop, but I got it all done in barely two days. And then I could turn all of my attention onto Lucy.

I knew I should have been careful about what I was spending on her since there wasn't any sign of business picking up soon, but she needed so much TLC. Scott didn't complain either, so I took silence for permission. Of course we weren't saying much of anything to each other right then, but that wasn't the point. I had a lot of work to do. And Scott was nice enough to take care of all of the small work so that I would be free with Lucy. He offered advice when I asked, but other than that, he left me completely alone with my sweet baby. Lucy was the reason Scott and I started really talking again. I would work until dinner, and then we would talk ideas while we ate. I was going to bed early, so I could get up as soon as the sun rose and get to work. I know it's wrong when a car is your reason for getting up in the morning, but I was putting my heart and soul into it. Rachel came over a couple of times to see how Lucy was coming along and then to drag me out from under the car.

"You're turning into him" she complained. "Work, work and more work. You do like to have fun and I'm not going to let you forget that."

"I'm not forgetting that" I said, pressing close to her. "But I just want to have Lucy ready to hit the scene as soon as possible."

"Yeah, but I'm ready to hit it now" she said with a pout. "C'mon sweetie" she said, teasing my lips with hers. "You've been with that car for three weeks solid and not once with me. I'm starting to wonder if you and Scott took my advice but didn't tell me."

Had it been three weeks? I honestly hadn't noticed. "Nothing is happening with us" I reassured her. "You're still my girl. Always, baby. I just can't wait to take you out in Lucy and really show off."

She smiled up at me flirtatiously. "There's plenty of time to get your car ready. You still haven't gotten your new tattoo and that's what I want to show off."

I smiled. "Okay. A few drinks for courage and then we get it done." Hey, I did want the tattoo. I had been eyeing these silver techno pants at this store. They rode real low on the hips. I could see myself in them with a shirt that showed off my other tattoo, getting out of Lucy at a party. Now that would make an impression. Lucy. I swear, the brain was stuck non-stop on Lucy. I looked at Rachel's smile and sparkling eyes promising me some good times and decided Lucy wouldn't mind waiting one more day.

"And then I get to show you off, right" Rachel pressed.

I laughed. "You have got the biggest one-track mind."

"Maybe, but you like where it's going."

She had a point. I let Scott know I was going out and got cleaned up. Rachel made a point of going out to the garage and telling Scott that she was wearing some of the new underwear I had given her. He flushed red at that, and walked away when Rachel pointed out that since he had seen it, wouldn't he like to see it on her? I don't know why Rachel was always at Scott. Maybe because he was the only person we knew that would say no to her outright. Well, the only person that liked girls. Ian would have no problem saying no, but he was a whole different case, right? Rachel was determined that the three of us were going to hook up one day. I wanted to tell her no, it wasn't going to happen mostly because one kiss and we were totally weirded out. I could imagine what the whole thing would be like.

We went to a party first because there was no way I was having a needle jammed into me thousands of times without some alcohol coursing through these veins. I wasn't going to get blitzed like I did with the other tattoo, but a little fortification was never bad for courage. We then went over to the tattoo parlor, and I kinda regretted the decision to stay sober enough to remember. I don't care what people said about the pain of a tattoo being some ethereal experience, pain is pain I say. And it did hurt. But once it was done, the effect was rather stunning. That was the best summation of my personality and I would have been hugging Rachel and doing some filthy things to her body, but my hip was in pain. So Rachel convinced me to go to this other party for a few more drinks for the pain. Besides, there were people there that I hadn't seen in forever.

I was weak, I know. But if you were with Rachel, there would be little resistance either. We ended up having a great time in this guy's closet and then having to go for round two when we didn't want to interrupt the couple on the floor right in front of the closet door. Hey, what else was there to do? Anyway, we had a great time in general, hanging out with some people that had just gotten back into LA and dancing and drinking. It had been a while since I had cut loose like this and just enjoyed myself. We had such a blast that I ended up stumbling home as the sun was rising. Oh well. Good times. Didn't want to get out of practice for those. Yeah, Lucy was going to have to wait until I woke up that afternoon. I crawled into bed beside Scott and was out before I could steal all of the blankets.

I've been woken up in better ways before. Lots better. Being kicked out of a dumpster by a cop. That was way better than waking up to a loud crash, metal slamming and then a sound that made my blood run cold and every bit of sleepiness flee from my body. Scott screaming.

I had never heard Scott scream before, but I knew it was him. I just knew.

I scrambled out of the bed and threw myself into the garage. I got a good look at what had happened and felt the world swim a little. Have I mentioned that I don't like the sight of blood? Especially in large quantities. And more especially when it's coming out of someone that I care for. The hood of the truck had come down and landed on Scott's arm. It had a lip on it that had driven into Scott's flesh from hand to elbow.

Scott had pulled the hood off and turned, cradling his injured arm. He was pale and I immediately thought of shock. Him, not me. I was already there, baby. My mind was in such a whirl that it was pretty much useless. I guess my body realized that and decided that it was going to have to do something then. I ran to Scott, yanking off my shirt and wrapping it around his arm, trying to do something to staunch the red flow coming from him. I'm not sure how we did it, but I wasn't thinking clearing again until we were driving. Scott had a bungee cord around his upper arm, using it like a tourniquet. All I can say is that it was a good thing that I had started with Lucy's engine because I was sucking every bit of power that I could from her. Scott had grabbed some towels on the way out and they were already turning red. He was the color of milk and I didn't know what I was going to do if he died in my car on the way. All I could do was pray as I did 90 mph down city streets.

I cut off an ambulance and parked nearly on the front walk of the emergency room, but Scott was still conscious when we got there. I ignored the ambulance driver's curses and helped Scott into the ER. It was packed with people sniffling and groaning. A sign said to sign in and they would help people in order. Yeah right. He was going to die if we waited that long. The nurses were behind an inch of bullet-proof glass, so there was no way to make them speed the process up. ER's had a philosophy. If you come in by ambulance, then you get high treatment. Why? Typically, you can afford to pay and weren't charity. Scott kinda helped the situation by choosing that moment to collapse onto the floor. There was this guy that had come in behind us and he pushed me out of the way and started touching Scott. He's on the floor bleeding to death and this guy is going to go through his pockets. Not in this lifetime.

"Get off of him, creep" I screamed and tried to shove the guy away. He totally ignored me.

"Shelley" he shouted. One of the nurses looked up from her paperwork. "Get me a gurney and see what room is open"

"Yes, doctor" she said and took off to the back.

I took a step back and stared at them. "It's Doctor Creep" the doctor said gently. He glanced up at me, his green eyes bemused. I could only make a little squeak of reply.

"I'm sorry" I finally said, sniffing. Tears? What the hell"There's so many people." He was doing something, wrapping or tightening, bandages, I wasn't sure.

"I understand" he said. "I do work here. And it's Dr. Harris."

A couple of nurses with a gurney came flying out behind the locked doors and they got Scott up. I followed them to the back as they ran him into this other room and started working on getting the blood to stop flowing out of him.

Everything was coming in a rush as Dr. Harris called a bunch of numbers and letters to a nurse as Scott was being situated in a room. All I knew was that when Dr Harris urgently yelled, "Double time, if we want to save the arm."

My stomach turned and I'm sure I turned as white as Scott was looking. Save the arm? If Scott lost his arm, that would be…He'd die. Or kill himself because he couldn't work on cars. I smiled slightly, no, Scott would prove to become the only mechanic with one arm.

I was lost in thought when a nurse touched my shoulder, "Ma'am, if you could wait outside and put this on." She handed me a scrub shirt and I stared at it for a moment before understanding. My shirt. I had used it for Scott. I was standing in a hospital in pants and a bra and I had blood all over my chest. Scott's blood.

My eyes were wide as I watched the doctors and nurses around Scott, they had removed the makeshift sling/tourniquet we'd made. The huge gash up Scott's arm was not a pretty sight, the wound was gushing blood and all I could think was what if he lost so much and the damage was so much that his arm would have to be removed, or worse, he died. I stumbled backwards as all of the adrenaline and instinct that had caused me to move 100 miles a minute drained out of me and the effects of very little sleep and drinking the night before took over. I think that explains why the last thing I remember is the room swimming around my eyes before it all went black.

I woke up to the sound of rhythmic beeping. I had been moved to a hospital bed and now had a shirt on. My head felt as if an African tribe was having a traditional drum ceremony inside of it and my eyelids felt heavy. I groaned before I realized where I was and what had brought me here. I sat up quickly, maybe a little too quickly and looked around. I didn't see Scott. I ran pulled back the curtain and ran for the hall, "Scott!" I screamed, running down the hallway towards the nurses' station.

"Where's Scott!" I demanded, and slammed my open palm on the counter.

The nurse gave me a bored look, "Last name?"

I blinked, I didn't have that. "I don't know. His arm got sliced by…"

"I can't tell you were he is if I don't know his name. And are you a relative?" The nurse droned.

My eyes narrowed and I hit the glass with my hand, "His arm got sliced by the hood. He came in here just a bit ago. I just want to know if he's okay!" This bitch was on the verge of me grabbing her neck and strangling her.

"Ma'am. You have to calm down." The nurse was now standing, giving me a 'I'm not intimidated by you' pose.

"No!" I argued, "You need to tell me where Scott is! I need to find him!"

The nurse was getting frustrated and I was getting hysterical. I wasn't sure what was going on, I just needed to find Scott. Being in hysterics might also explain why when a hand was placed on my arm I turned and swung with all my might.

My fist connected with a face and then my eyes went wide and my hands covered my mouth in shock. I'd just socked the doctor who'd helped Scott right in the nose. "Oh my god! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…Where's Scott?"

The doctor was holding his nose with one hand and he held up a finger with the other, "Shelley," he mumbled, "Don't call security. Just get a nurse to look at my nose."

The nurse, Shelley, looked from Dr. Harris to me, before hanging up the phone. "Yes sir."

I glanced at the doctor, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," he said. Most other doctors would be pissed or condescending. He oozed patience and understanding and it was soothing. I would have thought the only thing that would have calmed me down then was a bottle of tequila, but the kindness in his eyes worked even better. "Scott was taken into surgery. His arm was broken in several places and it's going to have to be pinned back together, along with the soft tissue damage. When the surgeon comes out, he'll be able to give you more detail."

My voice was shaking when I asked the next question, terrified of what the doctor might say. "He's going to live though, right?"

"We stopped the bleeding before he went to the OR," Dr. Harris replied. "He's going to live."

I let out a breath and gave him a smile, "Thank you."

"I'll check on you before I leave," he said. "In the meantime, go to the surgical waiting room. The surgeon will come in there and they'll let you know what room he's going to be placed in."

I nodded and he gave me directions. The scrub shirt was sticking to me and I still had blood in my hair and arms. For a second, I thought I was going to pass out again before I forced myself to get it together. Okay. I wasn't going to be able to keep from screaming hysterics. I needed some reinforcements. On the way to the waiting room was a phone and I found enough change in my pockets to make a phone call. She better be there, I thought as I dialed. After this, I was going to be bartering with pocket lint.

"Whaa?" The sleepy 'I'm going to kill whoever just woke me' tone had never sounded better to me.

"Rach, it's me."

She yawned. "Kat, do you know what time it is? I didn't get home until…"

"I'm at the hospital," I interrupted. Her sudden silence said I had her full attention. "There was this accident…" Oh, God, I was about to start crying.

"Are you okay?" I could hear the first threads of panic in her voice.

"Scott's in surgery," I finally said. "I'm not hurt. A hood fell on him and it cut him really bad. He's in surgery right now and I've got to wait for them to tell me what's going to happen."

"What hospital?" I told her. "I'll be there in like ten minutes. You need me to bring anything?" For the first time since I had met her, she was completely serious without a trace of teasing.

"A clean shirt," I said. "Mine…there's a lot of blood."

"See you in a few," she said. It didn't occur to me until later that she lived half an hour away from the hospital, but I had no doubt that she would be here in ten minutes. Rachel played hard, but when you needed her, she was there, no questions asked.

I went into the waiting room and sat down in the dull orange plastic chair. There was another family in there and the mother wouldn't let her kid come over to my side of the room when she got a look at me. Didn't blame her. I looked like an extra from a horror movie. But it was real. All of this was real. I sniffed. What if I had been out there? I had decided it was more important to be out partying rather than stay home. I would have been out there with Scott this morning. I might have heard something, seen something and got him to move. We could have been a little shaken this morning, that's all. Instead, he was in surgery and I was the one covered in his blood. All because I wanted a cute tattoo last night. I could have killed him because a tattoo and a few drinks were more important than being responsible.

I wanted to sob hysterically, but tears seemed so pitifully weak to express what I felt. I wanted to scream, rage, hit things until I was bleeding. I was the one that needed to be bleeding, not Scott. He was paying for my mistake. The only one he had made was taking me in to start with.

I didn't fight when I felt arms wrap around my shoulders. I turned, knowing by scent who was sitting next to me. Rachel's long dark hair curled around me as I wept against her chest. She hugged me tight, saying some nice things in my ear. I couldn't remember what exactly she was saying, but it was nice I was sure. For once, not a single promise of sex to cheer me up. That would be the last thing that would have worked right then.

"Now I got to kill the boy myself," she finally said.

I looked up at her. My eyes were hot and hurt. She shrugged. "He made you cry. Any guy makes my girl cry, and I kill him. Not that I want to, but hey, those are the rules."

I smiled weakly. "Blood freaks me out."

She got a good look at me. "Yeah, I can imagine." She reached into her bag and pulled out a T-shirt. "Figured you would want to go for hospital conservative. Need some help getting cleaned up?"

That was an honest offer, not a try to get me into the bathroom for a good one against the wall. Just to calm me down, of course. There was a little bathroom in the waiting room and we went through almost all of the paper towels getting the dried blood off of me. I still needed to wash my hair, but at least I didn't look like a freak show. We went back into the waiting room and sat down, waiting for what seemed like days to hear something from anyone. Rachel held my hand, not complaining that I was squeezing too hard, though her hand was red later.

Finally a guy walked out of the doors and looked around. "Scott X family?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"That's me." I jumped up quickly, dragging Rach to her feet.

"I'm Dr. Fenton," he said. He sounded like he was pissed that we had dragged him in from his golf game. "Scott is out of surgery. He'll be in recovery for two hours and then assigned to a room. They'll call you when he's ready."

He turned to leave and I grabbed his arm. "Is he okay?" I asked. "He still has an arm right? Everything is going to be okay?"

He jerked his arm back like I had cooties. "His arm is still attached. A physical therapist will be sent up to the room and discuss post-operative care. If you'll excuse me, I have other patients." Without another word he practically ran back towards the operating rooms.

"Jerk." Rachel muttered.

I sighed in relief. I really could care less if he was a jerk or not. Scott was okay and his arm was still intact. I leaned against Rachel, "He's okay. That's all that matters."

"Yeah." Rachel gave me another hug, "Have you had anything to eat?"

"No." I answered, realizing that I was a little hungry.

Rachel announced that she was going to feed me and dragged me to cafeteria. It was a nice place, which was surprising considering that hospitals weren't as highly valued since the pulse. We chose a table and got in line for food. The cafeteria looked good, the food on the other hand, wasn't so great looking. But at that point, I was too hungry to care. As Rachel and I made our way back to our table a hand caught my wrist.

Instinct caused me to tense and turn to give the idiot something he'd remember but when I turned, there was Dr. Harris again. "Any news on Scott?"

I gave a small smile, "He's in recovery. Should be able to see him in a while."

"That's good." He smiled tenderly, "If you need anything, or have any questions, feel free to find me." He paused and his gaze shifted to Rachel, "Who's this?"

I pulled Rachel next to me, "This is Rachel. My best gal."

"Also known as moral support." She clarified.

"Well, it's nice to meet you." He offered a hand and Rachel shook it.

I nodded and was about to make an exit when a woman rushed to the table and turned Dr. Harris' face towards hers, "What on earth happened to you!"

The smile never left the doctor's face as he turned to the woman, "Ashley, it's really not a big deal. Just another day at work."

The woman gave him a stern look before her gaze fell on me, "Hello."

"Hi." I shifted nervously, "I was just thanking Dr. Harris for helping me earlier. If it weren't for him, I don't know what would have happened to my friend."

The woman's face softened and she looked Dr. Harris. "Oh, sorry to interrupt."

"It's fine." I smiled politely, "I'll be sure to take your advice, Dr. Harris. And thanks again."

He had a very amused look in his eyes, "And thank you, Miss Thomas."

I winked at him and Rachel and I walked to our table. "What did happen to him?" Rachel asked, pointing to her eyes.

"Well," I started, looking at the limp lettuce on my plate, "I kinda hit him."

"Kinda?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well, it was an accident. Had I known it was him I wouldn't have done it." I answered quickly.

Rachel blinked before laughing shortly, "Damn baby, you really are a wild woman."

I laughed and reach over to her hand, "Thank you for coming."

"All in a days work." She smiled, squeezing my hand.

We finished our meal, chatting mildly and then waved to Dr. Harris as we left the cafeteria to wait until we could see Scott. And boy, was it a long wait.

It was more than an hour later when someone came and told us we could see Scott if we wanted to. I gave Rachel a look and she held up her hand, "You don't even have to ask. Go, I'll be there in a bit."

I gave her a grateful look, she really was being the perfect girlfriend right now.

The room was dark when I entered. I walked towards the bed Scott was laying on. He was asleep and his hair had fallen into his eyes. I glanced at the monitors around him, trying to make out what the bleeps and lines meant. There were lines and tubes and needles and stuff and for all my mechanical knowledge, I couldn't figure out what the first thing was for. I pulled a chair next to the bed and grabbed Scott's hand, "Don't worry Scott, we'll get out of this."

Scott stirred a bit and his eyes opened. He looked tired, despite the fact that the color had returned to his face. His mouth opened but I put a hand over it, "Don't try to talk. Just rest. It's going to be okay."

Scott gave me a look that slightly resembled a smile before his eyes lids slowly lowered and he let out a breath. I bit my lip and sent out a silent prayer as a tear slid down my face, "Please, help him get better."

Silence fell and I rested my head on Scott's stomach, my hand still holding his. I wasn't letting go for anything.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. I turned as Dr. Harris walked towards the bed with a clipboard in hand. "Just checking in on him before I leave," he said and then smiled. "Besides, all of the other doctors are afraid you'll belt them one."

That got a wan smile out of me. I looked at Scott, 'He's going to be okay? The stupid surgeon wouldn't tell me anything."

"He's stabilized," He said, "And he should be okay. He had a compound fracture on the bone in the lower part of his arm. It was bloody, but you were able to act quick enough. He's going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up, but give him about three months, plus physical therapy and he'll be as good as new." Thank you God. And thank you that Dr. Harris was using English to explain what was wrong and not a bunch of Latin jargon.

I stood and straightened my clothes, "Is there anything you can give him for the pain?"

"Well, we didn't get a chance to get any information from either of you earlier, but if you can answer some questions for me, then we can get things in order."

"I'll do what I can." I offered.

"Let's start with his name." he asked tenderly.

"Scott." I answered, taking my seat again.

The doctor smiled, "I figured as much. Last name?"

I blinked again, I really didn't know. We'd never talked about it, so I gave him mine, "Thomas."

"Age?"

"Twenty-one," I said automatically. He was more like seventeen, but you didn't admit that to someone who might decide under-age meant we were both children and social services was required.

Dr. Harris tapped his clipboard for a second with his pen. He looked up at me, trying to phrase his words carefully. "When you're going to lie about age, make sure it's not to a doctor that took x-rays of his arm and hands," he said. I went to protest, but he held up a hand. "I'm not here to pass judgement or tell you what you need to be in a foster home or anything like that. But Scott's fingertips haven't ossified yet. That occurs in young men when they are around twenty-one. I have a seventeen-year-old daughter, and I would say he looks about the same age as she is."

I looked down. He had been so nice, and I didn't want to sit here and lie to the man. "Can't you just pretend to believe it?"

He shook his head. "First, anything you tell me is privileged information. I can't tell another soul. I need to know everything to help Scott, okay."

I nodded. He looked relieved. "Do you know what happened?"

I looked at the doctor and shook my head, "I walked into the garage and the hood had fallen on his arm. He was finishing a job we had…I woke up to him screaming. How bad is it?"

"We'll get there in a minute. Do you know if he's allergic to anything?"

I shook my head, "I don't think so. But we haven't really discussed that."

He wrote some things on the clipboard before placing it between his arm and side. "I'll order him some morphine for the pain and when he wakes up. The floor doctor will probably be around later to take over the case." He hesitated. "I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but I would highly recommend calling his parents."

My eyes went wide. I didn't even know their names, and from little hints Scott had dropped, his family life would have given mine a run for its money in dysfunction. "They're dead," I said quickly.

That disapproving look was back. "They might have medical insurance. I am sure there's a reason why he isn't living with them right now, but Scott needs to stay in the hospital for a couple of days at least. And then there is going to be months of recovery and physical therapy along with follow-up visits. All of this costs a lot of money. If you can't pay, then Scott's going to be released as soon as possible tomorrow. And no PT means he won't recover full mobility in his arm. Plus, if there's any problems that could arise, then it won't get caught without follow-ups and things like infections can happen."

I perked up a little. "Don't worry about money, doc," I said with a smile. "Scott and I do car restorations. Just sold one for a bundle."

He nodded gravely. "Later, an administrative nurse is going to come in and handle the details. They are going to want to see it up front."

I nodded, taking it all in. "Anything else?"

"Well," The doctor had a 'I'm only saying this because it's my job' look on his face as he looked from me to Scott, "You understand that not moving his arm around means that you two shouldn't do anything for the next couple weeks at least."

My brow furrowed before it hit me. He'd referred to Scott as my boyfriend before, it was only natural for him to assume that we were together. "He's not my boyfriend," I offered, "So that shouldn't be a problem."

"Alright." He said with an almost relieved look on his face. After seeing me with Rachel, I guess he figured it out. "Dr. Connor is going to be around soon to check on him. But if you need me for anything, a nurse can page me."

I nodded once more, "Thanks. And again, I'm really sorry about your nose."

Dr. Harris smiled softly as he headed out the door. "It'll heal. Besides, that's one hell of a right hook you've got."

I nodded again and then turned to the bed. I should call Rachel and let her know what was going on. I sighed, if I laid my head down for a few seconds, it wouldn't hurt either. Heaving a sigh I squeezed his hand, "It's okay now, Scott. It's all going to be okay."


	14. Chapter 14

Now, it should be painfully obvious that the next few months were nothing short of hectic. And let's not forget that not only was I the only one working now, meaning I had to cut Lucy and Kat personal time down to nil – as had Rachel and Kat time, but I had to work while Scott grumbled and groaned about me not doing something right or about his arm hurting. So many times I wished it was his fault so I could have thrown it in his face that if he hadn't done this or that it never would have happened. Then, of course, I would have told him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. But since it wasn't his fault, and since I knew I could only imagine the sort of pain the poor guy was in I let most of his comments slide. At least for the first few weeks. I tried to be patient and understanding, but Mother Teresa I'm not.

I don't think Scott and I had argued so much before. It seemed like anytime we were in the same room we were at each others throats. I was tempted to call Rachel so that there could be a mediator. But as Scott's arm continued to heal the arguments showed up less often. And Scott's mood got much better because he was able to do more than just sit around and critique my work. Which, by the way, had been at an all time low. Now, I realize that every time business is low it seems as if it's worse than before. But let me tell you, this was really low. Somehow the big clients had gotten wind of Scott being out or something, because we were once again to the end of our stack of money in our wall safe. Scott was out of a cast, but he still had three weeks before his last doctor's visit. Had there been any work to do, he would have been able to help. But since there wasn't, he was only able to sit around while I organized and cleaned tools and complain about everything in general, from where I was putting the tools to the cash supply.

And since money has been mentioned, let's just talk about the hospital bills. It was outrageous. When Dr. Harris had told me it was going to be expensive, I figured no big deal. Well, I finally understand why only the incredibly rich go to the hospital. I assume if the hospital hadn't charged us out the ass we wouldn't be so far down in our stack of money. But being that shit happens, we took care of it and prayed that people wouldn't mind that it was just me working on cars. Not that Scott is so much better than I am, but admittedly, he is. Not only that but most of the men that come to do business are more interested in getting into my pants than me getting up to my elbows in grease with their cars. For all the time that's passed, women still get that short end of the stick on that end.

Anyway, three months for Scott to be declared fully healed and bring in business seemed more like three years, and we were running out of everything. Food, paint, car parts, even tools were winding up missing. It was hell and I wasn't going to stand for it anymore. I ended up storming into the shack after not being able to find the hatchet wrench, declaring that I was sick and tired of working like a mule and I was going out.

After getting appropriately dressed I went to find Rachel. Luckily she was at her place also getting ready to go out. Rachel actually has a very nice place for someone of her income of nothing but charity. Well, the income that I could tell at any rate. Somehow she managed to get this tiny house – yes an actual house – in an area of town that wasn't too scary to go in by yourself. It had been raided several times and had a reputation of being haunted or something so no one wanted to bother with it, let alone live in it. No one, except Rachel. I never did ask how she managed to get electricity and water run into the place, and frankly, I don't care enough to know. All I know is that she has it and that's good for me.

Her eyes lit up like diamonds when I walked into her room and in a matter of seconds she had pulled on a pair of platform shoes and we were off. I tried to keep my head up and not think about Scott alone and miserable at home, but it was hard. Rachel was noticing that I had something on my mind, but I refused to divulge anything other than it'd been a hard day working.

She seemed to accept that and we entered that warehouse and went to our designated corner. It was like being welcomed back to the family. Ian gave me a free drink and a bunch of people came up to me to tell me they were happy to see me again. Some of them even knew why I had been gone. Go figure. I turned down six offers for comfort sex, accepted two drinks and one big kiss from a chick that wasn't really into girls, but just liked people to think so. After a couple of drinks I was flying. Scott and the garage was the last thing on my mind and all I cared about were having good times.

I now realize that good times are for optimists with a lot of money and no enemies.

Rachel and I were in the midst of bumping and grinding when suddenly I was knocked flat on my ass. Yes, I was buzzed, but I was not drunk. If it were two in the morning, then I would have been drunk and lain there and laughed. It wasn't. And I wasn't laughing. I jumped to my feet and glared at the little blonde who had slammed herself into me. She glared back then stuck her nose up in the air and turned around, walking off to a table.

"What the hell was that about?" Rachel questioned, pulling me back to her.

"I don't know." I answered; shaking off my frustration and wrapping my arms around Rachel as a slower song began. "It doesn't matter anyway. All that matters is us here."

Rachel grinned and gave me a soft kiss. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was going on. I don't know what, but something was different. Something felt different. I tried to shake the feeling by kissing her back passionately, but that only lasted a few seconds because once again I found myself on my ass.

I looked up at the blonde who was smirking evilly at me and jumped up. That was it. It was bad enough I was distracted while hanging out with my girlfriend, but now I was being shoved around by some midget blonde thing. Now that I was really looking at her, she looked familiar from somewhere. Not one of the people that usually hung out here, that was for sure.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" I sneered, hands clenched in fists at my sides.

The blonde turned to Rachel and whispered something that didn't look like words of comfort. My brow furrowed as I watched Rachel's face soften, then harden again. What in the hell was going on? I neared Rachel and listened as she reprimanded the girl for getting in her girl's space. To which the blonde argued that she thought that she was her girl, not some string bean hoochie.

My jaw tightened and I tapped the blonde on her shoulder, "Excuse me." I growled, "But I was talking to you, bitch."

"Well I wasn't talking to you, whore." She snapped, then grabbed Rachel's hand, trying to pull her away.

Rachel looked like a deer caught in the headlights as both the blonde and I looked her down. "Both of you stop. Let's go talk about this."

"Talk about what?" I asked, completely lost.

Rachel shot me a look that said "don't say another word" and turned to walk to our corner.

Both the blonde and I followed in toe. When we reached the considerably quieter corner of the ware house Rachel turned to both of us and took a deep breath, "Jesse, this is Kat. Kat, Jesse."

"I know who she is." Jesse sneered.

"Well I don't know who you are, so shut up while someone gives me a fucking clue." I shot at her. There was something in that gaze. Jesse. Jesse? Oh, hell. Yeah, now I knew who she was. Miss Blonde Naked Chick in my bed with Scott.

"Kat," Rachel stepped between us, "Calm down."

I took a breath and sighed, "I'm supposed to calm down after Blondie here tried to knock me away from you?" Why was she pissed about me being with Rachel? Scott was a one-night stand to her. How the hell can you be that pissed about a one-night stand?

"It's not her fault." Rachel defended, "She didn't know you were going to be here."

I blinked, shaking my head. "You're not making any sense."

Jesse went to say something, but Rachel held a hand up, "I'll deal with you later. So for now, get lost."

She conceded, after shooting me a dagger like glare, once more.

"Rach, what's going on?" I insisted.

Rachel bit her lip before taking a seat, "Well, you were gone for so long. And I mean I didn't know Jesse was going to be here. She's not supposed to come here unless I bring her. I didn't think there would be a problem."

"A problem?"

"Jesse was sort of your temporary replacement," she said in rush, her brown eyes gazing up at me from under her eyelashes.

Understanding dawned on me, "Oh." I said quietly, unsure of how I felt about Rachel had a replacement. I mean, it's not as if I pegged her as the poster girl for monogamy. We had both fooled around with other people, but never behind each other's back. I never even considered that she would really find a replacement for me.

"It's just that, you've been so dedicated to helping Scott get better. Which is totally cool and I'm okay with that. But I had to find someone else to hang with until you got back. And, admit it, she's cute. I figured once Scott was back in his cave the three of us could have some fun before she got too annoying and I ditched her."

I glanced over at Jesse then back at Rachel, "She is cute, but still. You could have at least warned me. I mean, she may be small, but she hits hard. And she's already annoying."

"What?" Rachel squeaked, her eyes wide, "You mean you're okay with this?"

I smiled and grabbed Rachel's hand, "Okay might not be the word to use, but there's not much I can do about it. Besides, I know that there's a special place for me inside of you. And I haven't been around much for the last few months. I guess I can deal with you getting a little lovin' on the side, as long as it's not as good as me."

"Thank you." She smiled, giving me a hug and kissing my cheek, "You will always be number one, girl. But again, she's cute, and she does know how to have a good time." Rachel looked over to Jesse and winked. Jesse, unsure of what to do gave a half smile before turning to the bar.

"Is she going to try to impale me again if we go back to the dance floor?" I questioned standing and pulling Rachel up next to me.

"Not if I go talk to her." She smiled, "Wait here."

I watched Rachel saunter off before shaking my head, one never knew what was going to happen when you were out with Rachel. I suppose that was a good thing. I sipped on my drink and watched Blondie's expression as Rachel talked to her. Whatever she was saying was not making Blondie happy. Go Rach. She shot me a murderous glare and I raised my drink in a silent salute to her good taste in girlfriends. Blondie glared for a second longer and then turned back to Rach, her face pleading. Wrong tactic. Rachel hated people whining and groveling. Rachel stood it for about ten seconds and then waved her off.

Rachel was on her way back my way when I thought I heard someone say my name. I glanced at the entrance then at the bar. I swear, I heard it again, louder this time. I walked towards Rachel, "Everything alright?"

"She's cool." Rachel nodded then stopped. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

"What?" I asked, turning to look where her eyes focused, then my facial expressions matched hers. There stood Scott, a huge grin on his face.

Even more surprising was when he caught me around the waist and swung me around. When my feet were back on solid ground I opened my mouth to ask what the hell was going on when he held up a card. A card with gold engravings. A card that read T. A. Barron. My eyes widened even more so and I threw my arms around Scott, knowing now what the hugs were for.

After our short rejoicing I dragged him to a table and demanded details. Apparently shortly after I'd left Barron's man came in and said he'd heard about my accident but he needed a car. He offered to pay double if Scott could have it for him by the time Barron needed it. Scott accepted the deal and had ran to tell me.

His eyes shone as I squealed with delight, "I can't believe it! You mean we're out of the dog house then?"

Scott looked around cautiously and motioned me to sit next to him. I did and he motioned to his pants pocket. I glanced at him before slipping my hand into his pocket, besides the butterflies in my stomach I felt my hands slide around a rather large wad of bills.

"How much did he give you?" I whispered.

"Enough." He answered, smiling carelessly.

I pulled him up and gave him another big hug, "Scott. This is…this is amazing!"

Now, I was in the midst of happiness. My good times were rolling. We had money, which meant we could get a decent meal, which also meant that life wouldn't be as hard and we'd be working. Everything was great.

Until Blondie showed up.

She gave Scott an appreciative gaze before her eyes narrowed in on me, "Just because she left you for me doesn't mean you have to downgrade your standard to that."

I had just been given a gift that I had wanted more than anything. And here she was coming, trying to take my gift and shatter it into a million pieces. Well, I was beyond self-control at this point. And she'd just referred to Scott as a downgrade. And I'm sorry, but no. Not how it works.

So I did what any person in my situation would have done. I jumped forward and slugged her across the face. She let out a shriek before she fell to the ground and I pounced on top of her, reaming her body with hits as I swore at her in as many languages as I could think of or make up.

And can I just add as a side note, it felt really good. Even after Scott and Rachel dragged me off of her and held me at bay. To see the poor girls face all bloodied and her body hunched in pain, it did me a world of good. She'd stolen my sunshine. Damn right she was going to pay out the nose for it. I know I had no real good reason for going postal on the girl, but again. It felt really good.

Finally I shook Scott and Rachel off and spit on her, "Don't fuck with me, Jesse. Get off your jealously kick, it's been done before."

At that I unruffled my clothes with my hands, turned around, grabbed Scott's hand and left the club. We had work to do.

Of course as I was dragging Scott home Rachel had to interrupt me from letting my mind try to blot out the whole night. I had heard her calling my name from the start, I was just choosing to ignore her. I wasn't in the mood to talk to her. I mean, I said I was okay about her and Jesse, and I wanted to be, but come on. I had been working my ass off to keep food in the shack, and she was getting offended that I wasn't playing with her 24/7. But then she started running, and I'm sorry, but Rachel doesn't run, she sort of waddles while managing to kick her ass with her heels. Especially when she's in four inch heels. It doesn't make sense really, a girl with so much grace on the dance floor should be able to run just as gracefully, but apparently not. So to save her the humiliation, and from the hard concrete below, I stopped and walked back to her. Scott was smart enough to keep his distance. I always liked him.

I was ready to shout and spit angry foul things at Rachel, which she knew and put up a hand in advance, calmly grabbing my hand and sighing, "Kat, we need to talk."

Again, I was ready to jump into another fight, but at those words, words I never thought I'd ever hear Rachel say, it was as if I'd hit a brick wall. "Uh oh," I stumbled, "No one likes to hear those words. You can't be serious."

Rachel let out another sigh and squeezed my hand before letting go, "I know, I know, so don't make this any more awkward or uncomfortable." Rachel hadn't been awkward telling me she had been fooling around with a girl that hated me. That should say a lot.

"What's going on?" I asked, straightening up and taking a small step back.

She looked down at her feet then up at me, "I can't do this anymore."

Oh my God. She was serious. What was going on? Of course, being brilliant, I had to ask, "Do what?" I glanced around. "Dance?" I offered hopefully.

"No." Rachel scoffed, wiping a tear from her face. "This." She motioned between her and I, "Us."

Okay, Rachel crying, my cluelessness, and a bit of alcohol was not working well with me, "What? Why? What's wrong with us? I thought us was great."

"Key word being was, Kat." She bit her lip, "Face it, you and I have become less of an us while you and that garage have become more of one."

My brown furrowed. "You're jealous of my work? You know that it's important to me, and you should know that despite that, I care about you more than I care about my work."

Rachel looked past me at Scott, "Do you though?"

Ouch, that one hurt. "Of course I do!" I insisted, taking a step towards her.

"That must be why you disappear for weeks at a time. No calls, no visits, no dancing. Nothing," she accused. What about trying to make ends meet while Scott was hurt? Sorry, but some of us can't drop the pride enough to take handouts. That's too close to my mother's lifestyle.

I opened my mouth to argue but Rachel held up a finger to stop me, "Don't. Because you need to let me finish." I nodded and shifted my weight to the other foot, silently resigning myself to her hard words. "You know what I meant, by saying the garage takes up your time now. I know you do." Her eyes glanced at Scott again, "And I don't know what happened. I mean, this was supposed to just be for fun, you and I, not something that lasted or got serious." She bit her lip again, "But dammit Kat, you…you…I don't even know. You got closer to me than I wanted you to." My eyes stopped wandering at that point and focused on Rachel.

"I see you, Kat. I see you searching for fulfillment. I see you trying to find what you want." She grabbed my hand lightly, "And I also see that you're not sure that I am what you want, or need. And before I let myself fall even more in love with you, I need to let you go so you can find what you want and need."

My eyes grew wide. L-word alert. She had said love and not in the context of 'I love the way your butt looks in that skirt'. Rachel's eyes were big and watery. "You will never be able to love me the way I need you to until you know for yourself what you want, or even if I am that."

I stood, shocked and unsure of what to do or say. She was right, but she was wrong. But she was, oh, I didn't even know. I thought I knew what I wanted, but then again, I wasn't sure. My emotions were rising to the surface and I knew that this was definitely not what I wanted. I tried to pull away from her, but she kept her grip on my hand, "So Kat," she continued, letting more tears flow down her cheeks, "I love you, and I always will. And if you do find what you want and I'm it, I'll be waiting. But if not, that's okay too. Find what makes you happy, Kat." Her eyes wondered to Scott once more, "Find it and never let go." With that she leaned in and gave me a soft kiss before turning and walking away.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring as she walked away and back into the club. I was doing everything in my power not to scream and shout or cry. I was so confused and didn't know what in the hell had just happened. A few hours ago and my life was okay. Crazy, but okay. Now, it was as if everything in my world had gone screwy and it was all upside down now. I was still staring after Rachel when I felt a hand touch my arm, "Come on Kat, let's go home."

I turned to see Scott's face. So many things ran through my head in that moment. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hug him and cry into his shoulder or sock him across the jaw. Once again resigning my emotions, I swallowed my feelings and nodded, 'Yeah. We have work to do."


	15. Chapter 15

If you're ever depressed and don't want to talk about, hang out with Scott. He may force you into a discussion of "you took my 9/16ths gear wrench and didn't replace it" but he won't ask you how you're feeling over your girlfriend and first real lover walking out on you. Rach wasn't the first person I had ever had sex with, but she was the first one to stay around after we were dressed. So, yeah, I was depressed. I missed her. I missed her smile and laugh and little sexy walk. This car wasn't going to take forever. What was I going to do then?

I could have gone to her and talked to her and told her I wanted to be with her forever. But then she would have wanted me to move in with her. I knew her. That's what she wanted, me to be with her. But I couldn't bail on Scott like that. Even if I stayed working with him, I couldn't leave. He was used to people doing that, just like I was. When something better came along, the people you cared about disappeared into the night. It was the way things worked, but I wasn't going to be like that with him. Rach would come around. She had been drunk and frustrated. Once I explained how bad the money situation had been, she would understand. And then we would have a few drinks and dance and a little fun, and all would be well.

At least it should have been. I should have been thinking of what she said and laughing at how silly she was. Of course she made me happy. Didn't she see how much I smiled when we were together? That was happy. Sure, it didn't make me feel warm and safe, but how often had I felt that in my life? Not that I needed it. I liked how free I was with her. Yeah. Freedom. That's the important thing. That's what I wanted.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott's voice broke in on my thoughts.

I whirled around, ready to let him have it. If it weren't for this stupid junkyard and him teaching me to fix cars, I wouldn't be in this mess. Before I could say anything, he motioned to the hammer in my hand. "You're going to pound that metal out of shape," he said.

I looked down. I had been trying to bend a piece of metal and I guess I had been hitting it a little too hard. It was starting to dimple and the arc was way more than it was supposed to be. "Sorry," I muttered.

Scott hesitated. "Kat, if you want to take a break, then I can take it from here."

"I'm okay."

Scott shook his head, clearly not believing me. "Sure you are. You haven't been out of the garage since we got the job. Not for Rachel, not for a drink, not even for dinner. I don't mind the cave. You do."

I looked up at him tiredly. "If you want dinner, just say so."

He knelt down so that we were at eye level. "What I want is for my Kat to be back. The one that moved herself in on me. The one who has been my right arm ever since. The one that annoys the hell out of me in one breath and makes me laugh in the next."

My lower lip was trembling and I was about to break out in sobs right in front of Scott. "I met her one year ago today."

Like I said, Scott's a man of few words. He hugged me instead. And then I did lose it. I couldn't help it. I didn't have to worry about what he thought or would do. I just started, and it wouldn't stop. I was tired of having demands put on me all of the time. I know, what could I know about demands, I could do whatever I wanted. But that wasn't true. I felt like I was always balancing everything and it could all come tumbling down in the slightest breeze. I think right then, I finally realized what I had been looking for. It wasn't freedom. At least, not in the way I had defined it before. I was looking for a home. I wanted something solid, consistent. I didn't want to wonder anymore who was going to ditch me, and when it was going to happen. I wanted to know that in a year, I wasn't going to be alone and wandering again. I had always thought freedom meant not having any anchors weighing you down. Now I knew that anchors kept you from drifting off and getting lost in the fog.

Scott was cradling me when I finally calmed down, stroking my hair and saying some nice things about how great I was and how much Rachel was stupid for thinking I didn't want to be with her. His cast was finally off of his arm and we fitted together comfortably. I wanted to push off of him and get away. It was embarrassing, but still comforting. Scott was the one person in the world I could trust with my tears. Most people use them to get something out of you. They see your pain and hone in on it, trying to make the most out of it. Scott, I knew, would never speak of it again if I asked him. His ability to keep a secret was annoying at times, but now I understood why someone who had a big one would be willing to tell Scott. He would go to his grave with it if he thought that was best.

"Move in with her," Scott said. "Today. Right now."

"What?" Had I heard him right?

Scott looked at me so sadly, I wanted to cry all over again. "I can't stand to see you hurting like this anymore," he said. "So I'm kicking you out. You can't live here anymore. Pack up Lucy and get out."

Lucy. He finally called my car by its name. He had thought it was so silly to name a hunk of steel and plastic. But he had known. "I'm not going anywhere," I said, getting up.

"Yes, you are," he said sharply. "You want to be with her. You're worried I'll think badly of you if you go. I won't. I want you to be happy. I didn't say you've lost your job here. Just the bed."

"Both of you want me to be happy, so neither of you want me around?" I said, my temper rising. "That's just great, Scott. Thanks a lot."

"That kind of crying isn't for someone that you just like to dance with," he shot back. "Be in love with her. It's not wrong to feel like that with someone. It's hard to find, so be glad you did." He looked down, like he was ashamed of something. "It's okay, Kat," he muttered. "It's okay to want to be happy. So go with her and be happy."

"I don't want to be with her!" I yelled, frustrated with everyone trying to be so damn patient and giving to me. "I don't want to be there I want to be here! I want to be with you and this stupid garage and fixing cars and making dinners and knowing that's the way life is going to be!" I sniffed. "I want to be able to be able to work for days on end and that be okay. Or if I want to go out and get a drink I don't want to have to worry about offending anyone."

Scott looked utterly shocked. I wanted to hit him. So he now knew I didn't look at the garage as a chain around my neck. Yeah, I liked going out, but I liked being here too. "I'm going to go talk to Rachel," I said and stormed out.

It was early enough that I knew Rachel would be home. I drove fast over there, gritting my teeth as I shifted gears. Fine. Scott wanted me out, I would leave. Let him deal with all that every day on his own. He would be sorry then. He would miss me. My tires squealed as I pulled into Rachel's driveway. I jumped out of the car, ready to declare my undying love to Rach when the door opened and Jesse walked out.

We both stopped dead, facing each other like two gunslingers in an Old West movie. For a moment, sheer terror flashed over her face and then was replaced with haughtiness. "Well Miss High and Mighty has decided to show my girlfriend some attention," she sneered.

"Get out," I snapped. She hesitated. She had obviously been on her way out, but she didn't want it to look like Rach was done with her and told her to go, like she did with most of the people she slept with. To my knowledge, I was one of the very few allowed to spend the night. "There's nobody to pull me off of you," I added with a threatening step forward.

She squealed, and ran like hell. Good choice. I walked inside the house. It was a mess, proof that the party had been at Rach's that night. A couple of people were still passed out on various horizontal surfaces. I walked into the bedroom where Rachel's nude body was sprawled across the sheets.

"Jesse, I said go home," she slurred irritably.

"She did," I said softly.

Rachel almost killed herself, jumping out and twisting around. That doesn't sound like much, but when you're hung over and haven't slept, it's pretty funny to watch. "Kat!" She got out of bed and hugged me. "I missed you."

"Really?" I didn't mean it to sound so bitter, but I couldn't help it.

She let me go and stepped back. I didn't know what to say. She was so beautiful that I wanted to grab her and spend the rest of the day not worrying about anything else. But then what? I needed to support myself to live. Was I supposed to spend every day wondering if I worked late would Rachel be bringing someone else home? I once read one of those cheesy little sampler things that said "Home is Where You're Missed". This weird feeling started in my stomach. I pushed it away and concentrated on Rachel.

She grabbed a silky robe off of the closet doorknob. "Come on," she said, leading me out of the room, and up to the roof. Rachel liked to be able to lay on the roof, so she had a ladder permanently installed going up. We climbed up and sat there for several minutes, not knowing what to say.

"What do you want to hear?" she asked. "We broke up. You don't call, what else can I do but think it's over?"

"Glad you got over me so quickly," I said.

She sighed and looked away. "I was depressed. And quit acting like you've been all straight and narrow."

My eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She glared at me back. "Oh please, like it wasn't obvious. I practically give you permission, and you go skipping off with Scott, hand in hand. Don't tell me you haven't been going at it every chance you got."

My jaw dropped. "You think me and Scott are together?" Her expression said it all. "Rach, you are insane! Scott and I aren't like that."

She smiled slightly. "Then why do you save all your real emotion for him? Whenever you're really angry or happy or anything, it's all centered around him. The only real passion I can get out of you is when we're in bed, and that's not enough anymore."

"That's not true," I protested, but she shook her head.

"I told you about Jesse and got a whatever for it. You saw her making out with Scott and about blew a lid. She can sleep with me, and that's okay, but she insults him and you kick her ass." She took my hand, kissed the palm, and then curled my fingers up over it. "Kat," she asked me simply, "what makes you feel good to be alive?"

Being missed, I thought before I could stop myself. Knowing that if I left, I would leave a hole in someone's life. But I couldn't bring myself to say that to Rachel. I didn't know what to say and after a long minute she smiled gently before leaning over and giving me a soft kiss.

"I will always be your friend," she said. "Happy Anniversary."

It was late when I finally got back to the junkyard. I had driven around for hours, letting the rush of the car take me away from everything. Down by the ocean, up on cliffs, pushing the limit everywhere I could. It felt good to feel like I was in control of something in my life. But I finally had to head on back. I loved Lucy, but she wasn't comfortable to sleep in.

Scott was in bed when I got home. I crawled into bed and lay there for a while, thinking. Scott had put away my tools. Not packed them up, but just made sure they wouldn't get lost for tomorrow. He knew I was going to come back. He told me to leave, I had walked, but he knew I was going to come back. I bit my lip softly. Why did this have to be so confusing?

"You two can't be fighting already," Scott said from the dark. I jumped.

"I thought you were asleep," I said. I could feel his shrug more than see it.

"I was worried about you," he admitted.

"I went over to Rachel's and she had a party last night," I said. "She spent the night with Jesse."

Scott blew out a breath. "Rachel has very little taste when she's upset."

That brought a smile to my lips, "That's a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" I rolled to my side, propping my head on my hand, watching Scott's lips turn to a small smile before he turned his head to face me.

"You okay?" There was real concern in his eyes. Call me crazy, but I could tell he missed me, even though I was only gone for a length of hours. I hadn't seen that in Rachel's eyes. It's as if she'd faced the fact that there would never be anything between her and I again. She knew that the part of my life with her was over.

I glanced at the old blanket and picked at a loose thread, "No," I took a deep breath and glanced up at Scott, "But that's to be expected."

I felt Scott's hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything." I countered, biting my lip. This was too crazy. Scott's hand felt very warm. Very right. "Don't worry about it." I managed, rolling so my back was facing him and his hand was no longer on my arm.

We were both silent for a moment and I heard Scott take a deep breath before his arm wrapped around my stomach and he pulled my body so it was nestled against him, "I'll worry as much as I want." He whispered, relaxing against me, "Just sleep now."

I tried to respond, but I couldn't as tears began to slide down my face again. This crying thing really had to stop or I was going to flood the garage. I knew that there was nothing I could do but get through it. And the worst part was that Scott and I on the bed together should have been uncomfortable and awkward. But it wasn't. It felt like exactly what I wanted. It felt like home.


	16. Chapter 16

The job Scott had come to the club to tell me about wasn't like the first car that we did for Mr. T.A. Barron. Since there weren't any other jobs to finish first, we were able to dig right in and get it done easily. Plus, I was nearly a year more experienced. Scott wasn't able to do a lot, but he put forth quite an effort. His doctor was going to have a fit if there was grease on any of the healing flesh, but hey, we paid the man to clean up us being dumb. That was what a doctor was there for.

We finished the day Scott had his final appointment with the physical therapist. One more session with Brumhilda, the man hating Nazi who secretly wanted Scott's arm to fall off, and then next week the doctor would declare Scott's arm to be healed and we could burn that sling he had been stuck in for three months. When we were working on the car, I had to threaten him with bodily injury to keep his arm in the sling and not decide that it was good enough. I was not about to let him re-injure it and have to spend another two months dealing with his complaints and sulking while it healed.

The physical therapist was lecturing Scott because there were still traces of Phantasm Blue clinging to his skin (the color of the new car) and I decided to be somewhere else before Scott lost it on her. She was terribly bossy and treated him like he was a stupid prison inmate. Sometimes, it was amusing. But today I needed to settle up our account anyway, so I left Scott to her mercy and went to flirt with the admin girl in the front. We settled the account, I got a show of premium cleavage and then she had to move on to the next person. Pity. She looked like some fun.

Not that I was really interested. I mean, yeah, I was, but not really. What was really bothering me was that I was supposed to have wanted to fool around with someone to get back at Rachel. I had thought before that I was the jealous type and that I would kill someone for messing around with Rachel behind my back. But I hadn't touched Jesse until she decided to come after me again and start insulting Scott. This was a bother to me, but I couldn't understand why. Instead, Rachel had given me the boot and Scott and I were back to working on cars. I was doing my best to split my time between the cars and ignoring the fact that Rachel had ever been in my life, and taking care of Scott. It was tough, but I thought I was doing a pretty good job.

Scott still had half an hour to go and I wasn't in the mood to sit around and wait. It was early spring in LA and that's just too nice of a time to sit inside. I walked out onto a terrace and looked down. The ER was right there. It didn't look too busy in there, so I wandered down to say hi to Dr. Harris. I had seen him a couple of times when we were here. The guy was worth ten of the other doctors there. Even when he was busy, he would take a minute to stop and talk and be generally encouraging.

One time I had seen him in the cafeteria with this one chick that I would have totally made a play for, no matter what the situation with Rachel. She must have been his daughter because she was a teenager. Plus he didn't seem happy with whatever she was telling him. That was such a dad look. I didn't interrupt because they were having a pretty intense conversation. I heard a snatch of it when I walked past.

"I know," she was saying. "Trust me, I am painfully aware of the possible consequences. But I just know that I can trust him. And if I couldn't, then I would know by now." I almost laughed. Someone had gotten busted with her boyfriend. I wasn't needed in that conversation, so I left them alone. That was the last time I had been able to see him.

I went into the ER and tapped on the glass the nurse was behind. She gave me her annoyed look for not signing in and waiting to be called. I had gotten a lot of practice lately ignoring annoyed nurses. "Dr. Harris around?" I asked.

Her annoyed look became very guarded. "And you are?"

Okay. Last few times they had just said yes or no. "He was my friend's doctor," I said. "Wanted to let him know Scott's all healed up now."

"Oh." The nurse looked painfully uncomfortable. "I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but Dr. Harris was the victim of a drive-by shooting last week. He didn't survive."

My jaw dropped. I knew some gang members. And you didn't kill a doctor. There was something wrong about that because you didn't know if he was going to be needed to save you the next time you got shot up. I walked away from the nurse without saying a word. Oh my God. He was dead. They were paging him the last time I was here, and now he was dead. I knew people that had died before. But most of them were from overdoses, or diseases caught by being dumb. So they brought it on themselves in a way. But Dr. Harris was one of the good guys that weren't supposed to get hurt. He was supposed to fix people up and give them a lollipop and send them on.

Scott got out of his appointment and we headed home. He kept looking at me, but I didn't have anything to say. Finally, he broke the silence. "Kat, you're quiet."

"So?"

"You're never quiet. You okay?"

I sighed. "Dr. Harris died," I said, not knowing how to explain everything I was thinking. "I went to say hi to him and he was dead."

Scott blinked. "Right there?"

I shot him a glare. "No, dumbass. He got caught during a drive-by shooting last week."

Scott was quiet for a minute. He hadn't been able to talk much to Dr. Harris, being loaded up on painkillers for most of his time at the hospital, but he knew that I really liked the doctor. "Sorry to hear that," he finally muttered.

"I saw him with his wife and his daughter before," I said. "And I thought how awesome it was that they would come to a noisy, crowded hospital just to talk to him." We pulled up into the junkyard and I turned off the engine, but neither of us got out.

"I always thought that if I had a family, a real family, then my life would be so great," I said. "People that care about you. Don't run out whenever there's a problem. And I saw Dr. Harris and his family, and I thought that they were exactly what I had imagined it would be like. His daughter had a problem and she went to him to talk about it, not run out for a month and spend it strung out on drugs that she prostituted herself to get."

I sniffed, trying not to cry. "But it doesn't matter, you know? You can have the best family in the world, and it doesn't mean a thing because there's always something that can take it away in a second. For stupid reasons. Everyone that I hang out with says that it doesn't matter. Now is the only thing that matters."

"That's a bunch of crap!" Scott snapped. I wasn't expecting that from him. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking towards the shack, but I knew that wasn't what he was seeing. His eyes were dark, looking into his own memories. "It doesn't matter what you have. Only what you can keep. You can lose something for the best of reasons, but what matters is what you keep."

"I don't want to lose this," I whispered. I thought about all the stuff I would keep if I did leave. I'd know how to fix just about anything with an engine. I'd know what it was like to have a real Christmas. To be held by someone that had never put pressure on me. Screw keeping it. I wanted it now and tomorrow and the next day and the next.

"Who says you're going anywhere?" Scott asked, looking at me again. He tried to be neutral about it, but there was real concern in his voice.

"I'm not," I said, feeling vaguely irritated for some reason. "This is the first time in my life that I've felt like I'm home. I can't explain it any better than that."

"You don't have to," Scott said quietly. Our eyes met. "I had home once. But I knew it wasn't going to last. This…this feels real." He took a deep breath. "Even when I told you to go to Rachel…I felt like a selfish jerk, but I just prayed that you would come back."

I smiled a little. "It was the first time that someone was actually glad to see me come home."

Scott took my hand, staring at it as he ran his thumb across my knuckles. "Because it wouldn't be home without you. It was just a pile of wood and metal. You made it a home."

Now, I've had people say flattering things to me before. I had a stoned poet write an entire sonnet about the wonders of my chest. He swore that he was going to write an epic series about the rest of my body. Rachel loved telling me how great I was in all sorts of ways. But nobody, nobody had ever said something so deep and from the heart before.

Our eyes met again, and time just seemed to stop for a second. I know I didn't mean to, and I think Scott felt the same way, but we both leaned towards each other, finally meeting in the softest, sweetest, most genuine kiss I had ever received in my life. I had given him laughter and friendship. He gave me patience and understanding. Together, we made a home.

Now, most people would think that Scott and I would have spent the next week getting busy after our first real kiss. But they would be totally wrong. We slept together every night, curled up in each other's arms, but that was it. Okay, yeah, there were a few more sweet kisses over the next couple of weeks. And maybe more than a few hot kisses. And if you asked if there wasn't at least one make-out, you might be on the right track. But instead of just jumping in the sack, we were letting things take their time and grow. We had small jobs to do, and I had Lucy to work on, and things were great.

Of course, I can only stay in the cave for so long before the itching sets in. We were being careful with money since there wasn't another big job on the horizon, so I had to limit the Lucy repairs. The small jobs would keep us fed, but if an emergency came up, we were going to be hurting. So, Lucy had to wait for some major changes, and in the meantime, I finally decided that if I didn't hit a club soon, I was going to explode.

If you haven't noticed already,I love dancing. I love partying. I love going to raves. Everyone dancing and moving together, yet separately. It's like physical poetry in neon lights and flashes. It just so happened that the rave Scott and I ended up at was exactly that. I know what you're thinking; "Scott left the garage?"

Amazing, isn't it. Although it's really not as glamorous as you might think. The getting him out of the garage was really just pleading and begging for him to come with me because I didn't want to go alone, especially if Rachel was going to be there. I knew that I didn't want to be her one and only. But that didn't mean the body had forgotten what she could do, and it had needs even if my mind was saying no. Especially since Scott was getting those needs cranked and not finishing the job. But, at the mention of Rachel, the tools Scott had been fiddling with dropped and minutes later we were on our way.

The moment we walked through to doors got there we, well okay, I went straight to the dance floor while Scott roamed off to some other place. I didn't care, I'd been itching to get out of the garage and dance. Now I was dressed for it and finally got to do it.

I pushed my way through the crowds to the center of the stage, loud techno rave music blaring through the speakers. It felt like one of those scenes from a movie, the ones where all you see are shots of people dancing, gyrating, swaying, and grinding. When the music is going and all you can see are the dark colors moving and flashing, all surrounded in a slight fog of breath, sweat, and passion. With dark blues, blacks, reds and greens shifting around to the beat of the music.

I stood in the middle for a second, soaking up the emotion on the floor before my body began to sway with the music and began my routine of moving around person to person, stopping to groove with a random person before dancing off to somewhere else. There were a few mirrors on the walls for extra effect and a couple times I had glanced at myself in them. Damn. I looked good. I wasn't much for wearing skirts, but on impulse I had chosen nice black leather pants and a maroon tank top.

Songs came and went, but for me the party never ended. More and more people were coming onto the dance floor, causing the temperature to rise on the dance floor. As I shuffled from on spot to the next I throng of people decided to hit the floor. I was moving around some of them, random faces and bodies passing my line of sight when I caught a glimpse of Scott out of the corner of my eye. He was nursing a beer at the bar. I notice his eyes roaming around then landing on me. I moved towards him and sat at the bar, "Come on Sparky, let's go dance!"

He grunted.

I sighed and gave a bit of a pout, "Oh come on Scott, live a little. I promise, "I leaned across the small table between us, "It'll be worth your time."

A small, mischievous smile danced at the corners of his mouth and he sat down his beer, "Okay fine. You win, but just this once."

"Yes!" I jumped and grabbed his hand, leading him out to the floor, my hips moving to the beat as I turned around and started moving my body towards Scott. He started moving, watching me so his own body movements counteracted mine. There was a gap between us, close enough so it was known we were dancing together but far enough so it wasn't awkward. My eyes closed as I lost myself to the music, swaying and moving; the surrounding world fading away.

As the music continued and Scott and I picked up on each other's movements our dancing became almost liquid. Who would have known that a guy who spent more than half his life in the garage working on cars would have such finesse? I smirked at him and winked. Normally it rattled him when I did, but this time he just smiled back, moving towards me and shortening the distance that had been between us.

Our bodies moved in time with the beat together and as the line "move a little closer" was sung over the speakers I suddenly felt a hand on my hip. My eyes opened to see Scott looking down at me with an intense gaze. I held his gaze, moving in front of him, one of my hands running up his arm to his shoulder and mine moving behind his neck. Our bodies moved closer together with his one hand on my hip and mine clasping his neck as bodies ground into each other.

A smile crept to my lips and I turned my body so that my back was to his chest, my arm still snaked over his shoulder with my fingers on the back of his neck. His lean body moved against me, countering my fluid movements. We continued to dance, moving apart for a second before our bodies came together again. His other hand landed on my other hip and I leaned back, thrusting my hips towards him. Our bodies moved in sync, meeting each other's thrusts and grinds while gazing at each other.

I could see the desire in his eyes and was pretty sure he could see my own desire. The music started to speed up as the song changed, the next song faster than the one before; the beat harder. I could tell he was turned on, I mean, you don't grind with a guy and not notice these things, I wondered if he knew that I was turned on too. Quickly I switched the hand that was behind his neck with my other one, arching my back again as our rhythm adjusted to the new song. The heat was rising between us as the song continued. I swallowed, my eyes catching a glimpse of his. His were dark with wanting. I licked my lips and smirked up at him, leaning in and sliding my hand up his chest. His eyes glanced at my lips as the distance between us dissolved. A loud beat sounded as our lips met. I swear pyrotechnics went off at that same moment.

Scott pulled back after a long, deep kiss. His breath was shaky, I could tell he was trying to say something, but the music was so loud and he seemed to have lost his voice. I laced my fingers through his and grinned, leaning up to whisper in his ear, "Let's get out of here."

He sort of smiled and nodded at me, his gaze following my body as we left the dance floor. One of his hands was on my waist while the other one was still entwined with mine. I headed for the bathrooms, I figured a quick fix but apparently Scott had something else in mind, he tugged on my hand, spinning me around, before pulling me after him. Wherever he was going he was in a hurry and as long as it was to get us someplace along, then I was in a hurry to get there too. I was behind him and took the opportunity to check him out; he had on a pair of loose jeans, a button up shirt with a leather jacket over it. He looked good from behind. I licked my lips, yummy.

He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled, "Trust me."

I grinned at him and quickened my pace; pretty sure of where he was headed. Sure enough he led me to where Lucy was parked. He grabbed the keys from me and pushed the alarm button before opening my door for me. I smiled up at him and moved to the open car door. I bent to get in and he caught me around the waist, pulling me up and kissing me. His arms tightened around me as he pressed up against me. My arms moved to his neck, my tongue moving with his as his hands roamed my backside. I pushed him back a bit and caught my breath, "Home, now."

He nodded, reluctantly letting go of me and practically running around the front of the car and jumping in.

He looked at me as he started the car, revving his engine and smiling, "I..."

I leaned over to him and caught his lips with mine for a second before pulling back, "Go." I ordered and he let the clutch out and pressed the accelerator. I grinned and started kissing his jaw line, "good boy." I teased, running my tongue over his jaw and down to his neck. H reflexively tensed, "Relax, Scott. I'm not going to bite…yet."

"Sorry." He gazed at his lap and shifted again as if trying to get comfortable. I smirked, and began kissing his neck again, sucking and nipping at him. I could tell he was having problems concentrating because his foot was coming up off the accelerator and then pressing down really hard on it over and over. I didn't mind though, meant what I was doing was working. I shifted my body enough so that as I was kissing him I could run my hand down his chest and to his jeans. I could feel him through the fabric. My kisses ran up and down his neck as I slid my hand under his shirt and then, with one hand, unbuttoned his jeans before carefully unzipping them as well. One of his hands slid around me, grabbing my ass as my hand slid underneath his waistband.

His breath caught and his foot slammed on the accelerator as he shifted gears. I slid my hand beneath his boxers, my hand running over the length of him. He let out a strangled noise as I slid my hand around him, sliding up and down him as I continued to suckle at his neck.

He was really struggling to stay in control, his hand, which had moved to fondle one of my breasts flew to the wheel as we turned a corner and came to rest in front of our little shack. I looked up, surprised how quickly he'd gotten us home.

I slowly slid my hand from out of his pants and grinned, "Come on Sparky, time to go make you a man."

After a night of passionate sex between Scott and I we finally we both collapsed on one another and fell asleep. When I woke up I had the weird sense that someone was watching me. I looked over to Scott and found that he was staring at me. I gave him a small smile, "How long have you been awake?"

"A while." He answered, smiling back.

"And how long have you been watching me?" I questioned him suspiciously.

His smile grew, 'A while longer."

I grinned at him, "Really?"

"I find it soothing and peaceful." He admitted, taking a hold of my hand and bring it to his lips.

I shifted uncomfortably, "That's sweet, but incredibly creepy." I leaned closer to him, kissing him.

He kissed me back, pulling me closer to him, guess he was ready to go again after resting. Not that I minded. We continued kissing, hands exploring each other's bodies. My mouth made my way to his neck, suckling it and nipping at him while making my way to his shoulder. I breathed on his flesh, lifting his head and turning it softly with my hands as I drew my tongue to the lobe of his ear. Gently I kissed the soft skin and felt him shudder beneath me. I grinned and opened my eyes, moving tease him about shuddering like a little boy but then stopped.

"Scott?" I whispered.

"Hmm?" he breathed.

My eyes didn't leave the reflection of Scott's back off of the polished steel that formed the wall his bed was pressed against. I sat up, and he followed, giving me a questioning look. Gently I turned his head and moved so I had a clear view of the back of his neck. My eyes widened as I brushed a bit of his hair away.

"Why do you have a barcode on the back of your neck?"


	17. Chapter 17

Scott's face turned to steel and his body went rigid, "Scott?" I pressed.

He scooted out of the bed, grabbing a pair of boxers and slipping them on before standing and pacing in front of the bed. He stopped, looked at me, and then continued pacing.

"Scott?" I repeated.

I wrapped the sheet around me and stood, facing him. He looked at me again then shook his head, "I can't…" His eyes bore into mine, "I wish I could, I really do. But I can't."

My eyes narrowed, "Can't what, Scott?" He looked away. "Can't what?" I closed my eyes and took a deep breath; there was only one thing he hated talking about. "Your past."

He nodded slightly, "Yes." He admitted softly.

"Oh." I backed off and sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking for a second before looking up at him. Our eyes met, "Zane? Or that fire you were in?"

Something flashed in Scott's eyes when I mentioned the fire. He glared into me, pushing my back to the wall, "How do you know about that?" he shook me hard. "Who told you?" He yelled.

I tried to say something but I couldn't, for the first time in over a year I was scared of what Scott might be able to do. I'd heard about the 'bar-coded freaks' at parties, before. They were supposedly super strong inhumane creatures. I thought they were just urban legends, but maybe I was wrong. I realized he was still shaking me and finally I gurgled out, "Scott, stop!"

His eyes were the things on fire at that moment; he calmed a bit but asked me again, still pressing my back against the wall, "How do you know about a fire?"

I blinked, trying to calm my fear; "I-I…" I think Scott realized that I was petrified at that moment and he loosened his grip and let me go, stepping back to give me some distance. His eyes still bore into me.

"Kat," he demanded.

I swallowed, "I only know it because of you." His face contorted in confusion; "You talk in your sleep sometimes." His face drained of color. "I heard you screaming about a fire. For Zane to get you out. Seems I was right."

Scott shook his head. "No one can know about that. No one."

"All I know is a name, Scott," I offered.

"That's too much, as far as I'm concerned," he spat.

It was my turn to get angry. "Now that's not even close to being fair! I've told you about my life. Told you about how I was abused, how I was prostituted. I trusted you with that, and you can't even trust me with someone who is so important and sacred that I can't even know his fucking name?"

Scott looked away, "Kat, I can't risk it. It's too dangerous. If anyone found out..."

"Then no one will find out." I insisted.

He ran a hand through his hair, "I don't know if I…I've kept it a secret for so long. I can't just, but god, I've wanted to tell you." I thought he was going to rip his hair out he was so frazzled. "There have been times...I wanted to tell you everything. I want to now, but…I…" He faltered.

I walked to him, cupping his chin in my hands, "Scott, what ever this secret is, it's going to eat you alive. It is eating you alive. You can trust me, I promise. It will stay between you and me." I assured him.

He took a deep breath and started pacing again, "I shouldn't be telling you this. It's dangerous information that I shouldn't even know. I was just a screwed up kid that got caught." He looked at me, "It could mean both our lives if this got out." I nodded and sank to the bed as he continued with a far away look in his eyes. "Zane." He paused and I wasn't sure if he was going to keep going, "He was my best friend and the closest thing I've ever had as a father. He took me in when I had no where to go. When I was 13 I ran away from home because my shit-faced father almost killed me. I don't even remember what I had done. But he came home drunk again and he started yelling and beat the shit out of me. He even used a base ball bat." His eyes were hard; "I dragged myself away from my home after he passed out. Eventually I could walk with a slight limp and bum money or food from people. When I healed even more I learned how to lift things when I needed food or money to buy food.

A few months and states later I found myself in Georgia, passing by this old garage. There was this silver shiny thing by the door that looked like it was worth some money. I didn't know it at the time, but it was a muffler. I walked over and grabbed it. My hand had barely touched the thing when someone caught me from behind. I tried to run, but he had a hold of me so good there was no way I was going anywhere. He whispered that he was going to cut off my hand for even thinking about jacking the muffler from him. I was so scared I about pissed my pants.

The guy dragged me into the garage and sat me down at a table. He told me to stay where I was and went to another room. I was scared so shitless he could have been gone for hours and my ass would have stayed glued to the seat. The guy came back and I got a good look at him. He looked a couple years older than I am now, strong build; my dad would have said he had the build of a football player. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail with something that looked like a piece of leather and a crazy smile was on his face. I'd never seen so white of teeth in my life. Because of his slightly darkened skin they shone like the sun.

He dropped into the seat across from me and demanded my hand. I shook my head but then finally offered it to him. He pulled out a big knife and held it in one hand while the other clasped my wrist. My eyes widened and I think I did piss my pants.

He raised the knife; his eyes locked on mine and slammed it down. I made my eyes stay open and demanded my body not flinch but for a moment I wasn't sure if my hand was still there or if I had fainted, but when I glanced at the table I saw that the blade and gone right between two of my fingers and into the table. Didn't even shave skin off." He held up his hand and I nodded, "Anyway, the guy just laughed and let go of my hand, assuring me that I'd be too chicken to try and steal anything from 'Good Ole Zane' again.

I tried to be tough and defiant but he saw through me. I left that day with more respect for that guy than I'd ever had for anyone in my life. Even when my dad would beat me, I'd never been afraid. I wasn't afraid of anything, except of this mysterious Zane.

The next day I went back to the garage and tried to lift the muffler he'd put back by the door. I wasn't about to let anyone tell me what I could and couldn't do. Just like before, he came out of no where, hauled me into the same room, plunk the knife down between my fingers, and then tell me to leave. I did, and then came back the next day, and the next day. Finally, after the routine Zane told me that if I was going to keep wasting his time, I might as well waste it by sticking around to work. That started our friendship. I sort of took up residence there with him.

He had an apartment over the garage and then one day, he asked me if I wanted to come up for dinner or something like that. I wasn't worried that he was going to try anything because, let me tell you, girls would walk by his shop and there was just something about him that made them walk right in and throw themselves at him. Once some chick was getting her minivan fixed and had kids in the car and asked him if he wanted to run upstairs for a quickie. He loved it when they stroked his ego like that, but mostly he'd just fix up their car, take the payment. And either tell them to get lost or come back when Jr. and the kids weren't around. Then there were sometimes he'd grin and say that he wasn't available, but I was." Scott's lips curved into a smile and he let out a breath, "Anyways, I think he finally realized that I wasn't living anywhere and one day after we ate we ended up hanging out till real late and he let me sleep on his couch. Within a few days, I was officially living with him."

"He taught me about cars and bikes and anything else that was fixable. He taught me everything I'm passing onto you."

I smiled up at Scott, and nodded, "He sounds like a great guy."

"Yeah," I heard him add; my head cocked as I the story over in my head.

I furrowed my brow, "I mean, that's great and everything, but what does it have to do with the barcode or the life threatening?"

I was pretty sure Scott had hoped I had forgotten about that and would just be satisfied with what he had shared. I admit, it had almost worked, but I just stared at him patiently waiting. A pained look passed through Scott's eyes, "Zane had a barcode on the back of his neck. As we got closer I found out things about him, more so I noticed things about him. He could move faster than anything I'd ever seen. And he seemed to know things before they happened. Said he could hear things and all. One day I saw his barcode on accident and asked him about it."

"He just smiled and told me he was a government project. A super soldier boy that had escaped and that was his tracking device. I didn't believe him, but then a couple months later, some guy showed up in the shop and told him he had to leave because some guy named Lydecker was in town and was onto him. Zane immediately grabbed a duffel back out of a closet and started throwing stuff into it."

"Before the guy had come in, Zane mentioned that he'd heard something and then told me to hide. I trusted him and did as I'd been told and had been hiding in a back room listening and suddenly I had to sneeze. When I did the guy who'd come to visit was on me like white on rice. He had me raised in the air; my back pinned against a wall, holding me only by the throat. The next thing I knew I had been dropped in a heap and Zane and this guy were fighting at speeds I'd never though any human could possibly achieve."

"After a few seconds Zane threw the guy across the room and told me to get out of there. I shook my head and told him I was staying, but he insisted that I leave. I stood my ground and told him that I wasn't going to bail on my friend. Zane said he appreciated that, but I had to leave before it was too late. By that time the guy had gotten up and was headed for Zane again. Zane yelled at him and told him to stop, that he would take care of it."

"He took me into another room and told me to hide out for a while and then he'd be back in a few months. He told me to keep his shop running because he had to disappear for a while."

"I remember the day he left. I remember how I curled up on his bed and cried. For the first time since I was a toddler I cried. For months after that I ran the shop. Just another 14 year old kid, trying to make a living. Then one day Zane came back. He looked like shit. He probably hadn't showered or slept for days on end. I remember that he walked in with his bag over his shoulder, gave me a curt nod then collapsed onto the bed. When he woke up he told me that he'd been on one hell of a trip. I nodded, knowing I wasn't to ask about it. Told him I understood having secrets."

"He had his crazy smile on in a heart beat and put his hand on my cheek, pretending to slap the punk out of me. It was a joke we had since the beginning." Scott got a far away look in his eyes again, "I smiled and asked if he noticed that my hair was longer. While he'd been gone I'd purposely grown it out and put it in a ponytail like his. I'd also done something else. When I turned around and lifted my ponytail I heard Zane gasp. 'Why did you do that?' he demanded. I didn't understand why he was angry. I told him I'd done it because I admired him and I wanted to show him I'd never bail on him. He told me I shouldn't have, and that he thought it was nice of me, but that I should get it removed. I refused and told him that it was my sign of loyalty. Zane didn't like it, but he didn't ask me to remove it again."

"Zane told me that he was going to have to go again. He only came back because he had promised that he would, but it was too dangerous for him to stay. I wanted to know what was so bad that he would take off and leave everything, but he just shook his head and said that he couldn't tell me what was going on. He wasn't going to have me killed because of what he was. That was when I realized that his little jokes about the government weren't really jokes. He was dead serious. I told him I was going to come with him. He gave me that grin and said there was no way I could keep up with him. I told him he might be right, but I would try."

"It was one of the few times that I had ever seen Zane really get serious. He said that he wanted me to come, he really did. It got lonely out on the road and that those few months that we had been living and working together were the best months of his life. I made a million promises and he gave me a million warnings, but in the end we took off together. We headed up to South Carolina for a while and then over to Kentucky and Tennessee. Sometimes I was his little brother and other times a younger cousin. We'd work at a garage for a couple of weeks, and then Zane would wake me up at midnight and say it was time to go."

"I learned what he had meant. As soon as you got comfortable somewhere, it was time to take off again. There wasn't time to start your own place or even make a single friend. Zane seemed different too. He was more watchful and severe. But then we headed to Florida and spent almost a month there and then the old Zane was back. I figured whatever was following him had lost our trail but then one day I had gone out to the beach and came home and Zane was shoving everything into his bag again. I almost tried to beg him to stay, but I had promised that I would never question if he said it was time to leave. I could stay, but he wouldn't be back."

"We ended up in Alabama at this seedy hotel after getting a pretty decent job at a garage. Actually, it was a lot nicer than some of the places that we had been sleeping in the last months. I woke up and he was sitting in a chair just staring at me. I asked him what was up and he just gave me the oddest look. "I finally understand Zack," he said. I guess he could see that I had no clue what he was talking about. "See, Zack would never be able to say it," Zane explained. "But I get him now. I know what it means to love someone so much that you have to let them go. To take yourself from them because you know that is the only way they're going to be able to live. It kills him. I get that now. But he'll do it, not because it's his job, but because he loves us that much."

My heart was slamming in my chest. I knew what he meant. He was leaving and this time he wasn't going to let me come." Scott fell silent, his eyes hard. To no one I heard him mutter, "Screw the love crap. Didn't he see that I loved him too?" before he looked back at me and continued, "I didn't like being on the run but I wanted to be with him. So if that was the only way then so be it. Before I could protest, Zane just smiled and told me to go back to sleep. He would be there in the morning and there was time to think about it. But I knew. He was going to make sure I was safe and had a good set up and then he was going to be out of there and there was nothing I could do about it.

A couple days later…" Scott's voice trailed off.

"What?" I asked curiously.

Scott shook his head, "A couple days later…" he tried again but faltered once more.

I stood, taking his hand. He squeezed it back. "I had gone to get us lunch. But when I walked into the shop…" he took a breath, "There were these guys surrounding Zane, I yelled for them to back off. I charged toward them and crashed into them, causing some of them to lose their balance. Zane and I fought them off and then he yelled at me to go. I heard guns being cocked outside and defiantly shook my head, insisting that I was loyal and immovable.

Zane grabbed my shoulders and told me that if I didn't go we'd both be dead. He told me to get as far away from the garage as possible. I kept shaking my head defiantly, but then an older man approached the door to our garage. He was talking into a walkie-talkie and as soon as Zane saw him his face paled. He suddenly shoved me down and covered me with his body as bullets riddled the building."

"When the bullets stopped Zane looked around the garage and grabbed a bottle of water, handed it to me, and told me to go hide in one of the car trunks. At that point I wasn't going to argue and I made my way to one of the cars. As I slipped in the trunk more bullets came and I watched as Zane scrambled for cover. I pulled the trunk closed, clutching the water jug to my chest and trusting that in a couple days Zane would be back to open it before I ran out. There were small enough holes in the bottom of the trunk that I could see the concrete floor beneath me. For hours on end I heard all sorts of noises. I heard gunshots, screams, yells. The car I was in even shook a few times as people were either rammed or thrown into it. Finally the noises died down. I heard a couple of men talking, saying that X5 – 377 was no longer on the premises and they were to destroy the building before moving out."

"My heart pounded in my chest. I knew that I had very little time before the building was going to be gone. As the thought crossed my mind I smelt smoke. So, I tried to kick open the trunk. I pounded and kicked as hard as I could to get out but it wouldn't budge. The smoke was traveling up through the holes of the trunk, it was getting hotter and hotter. I kept kicking. Praying that some how the trunk would pop open. The trunk was filled with smoke and I was on the verge of passing out suddenly the trunk burst open. I vaguely remember seeing the actual trunk covering flying across the room as Zane grabbed me and hauled ass through a window to the back."

"He set me down, my lungs sputtering and gasping for clean air. I looked up at him from the ground, I tried to talk but he put a hand up. I remember exactly what he said." Scott took a deep breath, "He said, 'Scott, buddy. I gotta ditch these guys, I gotta disappear again. But this time it's for good.' He looked away. I could tell he was struggling. 'Look, Scott. I can't have you coming with me either. You gotta get out of here. Get as far away as possible."

"I didn't understand. I asked him who the men were; I asked him why he had to go, why I couldn't go with him. He handed me a wad of cash and said, 'This should be enough to get you across the country. Go as far and as fast as you can. Canada or Mexico would be the best, but either way, get as far from here as you can.' I tried to say something, but he just shook his head and then gave a soft smile, 'You've been a good friend, Scott. A real good friend. I'll never forget you.'"

"I watched as he nodded at me and walked away. Finally I found words and called out to him, 'Zane!' he turned and looked my way. I ran towards him, 'Thanks.'"

"He looked a bit confused, 'For what?'"

"I glanced down for a second then looked him in the eye, 'I'll never forget you. And if you ever do need a friend. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to find me. You've showed me what it is to be a real man. A real father.' I held out my hand to him, as if to shake and depart but Zane grasped me in a hug. I hugged him back, for the second time I cried openly. He pulled back and put his hands on the sides of my face, 'Go, Scott' he cried, 'Run and never come back.'

He let go of me and ran off into the night, leaving me, tear stains on my face, our garage burning behind me. Then I went and did what he told me." Scott looked at me; "I stowed away on a cargo plane to California and made it here, as far away from the garage as I could go."

I didn't know what to say. I mean, what do you say to something like that? I stood and then sat back down on the couch, "So, did you ever figure out who the men were? Why they were after him?"

"No." Scott admitted. "I don't know anything except for the fact that they were out to kill my best friend some unknown reason. My best friend who could hear and see things miles away, who could jump onto a roof from ten feet below. My friend with a barcode on the back of his neck."

I nodded, not knowing what to do. After a moment I tentatively grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to me, "Thank you for telling me."

He nodded and I hugged him. I half expected him to pull away after a second, but he grabbed onto me, grasping me with what felt like desperation.

"I'm not going anywhere, Scott." I whispered, pulling us into a laying position and allowing him to hold onto me.

I heard him exhale a ragged breath before he kissed me softly, "I know." he whispered, his eyes closing tight as his arms tightened around me again.

And I know he'd kill me for seeing and now for telling, but I think even a couple tears slipped from his eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

To say that Scott and I grew closer would be an understatement. I understood why he had been so guarded. Both of us were used to getting our hearts stomped on whenever we had cared about someone before. I knew that I wasn't going to do that to Scott, and he didn't want to do it to me, so it was a good match. Now, don't think for a second he softened up about me touching his screwdrivers when I had a set of my own. Finding your soul mate might be grand, but love didn't count for a thing in the garage.

Although there wasn't as much garage-time anyway. I know, business got slow again, big deal. But this was different. Really different. See, this jerk on the TV was killing our customer base. Not literally, though with some of these guys, I'm not sure. Eyes Only was reporting all these things, cool to hear for the do-gooders of the world, but a pain for me. See, I had an idea on who our clients were. After the last Eyes Only hack, a city councilman was on TV, getting out of his car while a bunch of reporters were trying to question him. I didn't hear the questions because I was focused on the car. I knew that car. It was the last one that we had done for Mr. T.A. Barron. Curiosity made me go to a library and do some research. The pay for public officials is public record. There was no way that he could have afforded that car. So, yeah, problems were abounding when the people that had once bought our services were now afraid to show that they had money beyond what was on their paychecks.

Granted, I didn't care about the slack in work at first. That just left more time for Scott and me. And let me tell you, the boy was determined to make up for all of the celibacy he had endured over the last year or two. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but he had actually worn me out a few times. Good times. Great times. We even started to talk about future-type things we could do. Like the bathroom in the garage. It had a toilet and an overhead shower fixture. Not a proper shower, just the fixture. There was no hot water. So you could stay clean, but seriously, have you ever tried to clean grease with cold water? So, I'd have to stand under a cold spray, scrubbing away. We talked about doing a real bathroom together as soon as another big job came in. It was weird, but hey, it was better than anything else we had ever had in our lives.

There was just one thing I missed. Scott was great in bed. Or on the floor. Or against the wall. Or, well, you get the point. But there were some things that I missed. Not because Scott wasn't willing, but because he wasn't equipped. I never said a word about it, but after a few months, Scott finally asked if I missed being with a girl.

I sighed, wanting to be honest, but not wanting to hurt him. "You're great," I said. "And no matter what I've been offered at any parties, I haven't said yes once. I'm not going to say yes. But, yeah, there are things I miss. But hey, if I have to give that up for you, then that's life."

He was quiet for a minute. "Well, maybe you don't have to."

I froze. I thought about what he had just said. And thought about it again. And once more for good measure. I could only interpret what he said one way, and there was no way he was saying what I thought he was saying. I looked at him cautiously. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

He shrugged. "I know you like girls too. And I want you to be happy."

"So you're saying you wouldn't mind if I picked up girls at a party?" I was getting a little pissed, now. I had been totally monogamous with him. Now he was acting like I was some nympho that could barely hold out.

"No," he snapped. "I would be pissed if my girlfriend started having sex with random strangers."

"Then be specific here."

"I'd have a problem if you met someone and had a quickie in the bathroom," he said. I glared at him. Just like him to throw my little bathroom fetish in my face. "But, if like you and Rachel came home and the three of us…" His words trailed off. I'd have said something right then, but my jaw was on the floor. Scott turned red. "Forget it," he muttered.

"No forgetting," I said. "It's just…after all the times Rachel offered, begged even, now you're willing? What changed?"

He looked at me like I was an idiot. "I wasn't sleeping with you before. I thought then that if we all did, it would wreck us." He gave me his most charming smile. "Now, I know it won't. And considering how many times I did fantasize about the three of us, and that you miss it, I thought that maybe…if Rachel was willing…" His blush was scarlet.

Would Rachel be willing? I thought so. I wasn't positive, though. I mean, she had used the L-word. She hadn't made a move on me since Scott and I got together, even though we still partied and danced together. I thought about what Scott was offering though. Yeah, I missed it real bad. I wasn't sure if Scott would be willing with a chick he didn't know, so Rachel was the only hope. God, please let her be willing.

It's what I asked her that night at a party. Scott had actually made a couple of friends, car-buffs of course, and was at the other end of the bar talking to them. Rachel was at our end, choking and sputtering on her drink. She looked up at me, her eyes huge.

"Scott asked?"

I nodded. "He said he always thought it would be hot, but you know. Too much other crap." I paused. "And I'm not saying we would have to be exclusive or every night, you know. Just, you know, whenever the three of us were in the mood and…and…what the hell are you doing?"

Rachel was frantically digging through her purse. She finally pulled out some cash and threw it on the bar. She jumped off of her stool, and grabbed my hand, pulling me with her as she yelled towards Ian that she would settle up later. Scott's buddies cheered as she grabbed him on the way past, dragging us both into the parking lot.


	19. Chapter 19

By that fall, things couldn't have been better in my life. I had Scott. I had fun-times with Rachel and Scott. I had Lucy. I had a place to stay, food in my tummy, and had learned how to build a hot-water heater. What more could a girl want?

Well, customers would have been good. Business hadn't picked up like it always did before. We had small work, repainting, some repairs, that sort of thing. But not a single big job. I have to admit, I never handled the bills around the junkyard. Scott paid the suppliers. I knew where the extra cash was and I took what I needed when I went on supply runs. We had another place for "household money" like stuff for dinner and drinks at parties. There was still money in there, though not as much. And we really didn't have much in the way of supplier bills seeing that we hadn't had much business.

Scott didn't seem worried, so I wasn't worried. Scott knew the business a whole lot better than I did. So if he thought we were okay enough that he could go out with friends, then why should I worry? And Scott really did have friends now. That was the other big change. I guess since he had someone that he could really talk to now, he didn't feel like he had to hide all the time for fear of letting something secret out. He could just hang with some guys and have a few beers and talk cars. Plus most of the guys knew about me and him and Rachel and they thought Scott was the biggest stud on the face of the planet. As long as he didn't get an ego problem from it, then I wouldn't have to deflate it. It was great though. He had friends. I had friends. We went out. We danced. We played. We worked when we had work. When we didn't, Scott tinkered on other things and I played with Lucy.

Scott was out with his friends one evening while I was with Lucy, working on some of the rough edges she had left. She was almost exactly as I had envisioned her when I got her last Christmas. I didn't think she would ever be completely done, and that I would always play with her, but I loved it. Her new paint job was done, and the only thing I had left to do on that was to wax and buff her until she shined.

I happily dug through Scott's tools, looking for the buffing pads. Now, normally, I never touch Scott's tools. He has his. I have mine. The communal tools are in the middle. He had the buffing pads because he always did the final buffing on a car. Not that I couldn't do it, but more like I hated dealing with the wax and the buffer and making sure I didn't put whorl lines into the paint and all that crap. It was a pain, and Scott was really good at it, so I did the interior, and Scott would do the paint. But Lucy was special. She was mine. I wanted to be the one to buff her paint. I had done everything else on her, and I wanted to be able to say that Lucy was 100 mine.

So that's why I was in his stuff. That's why I was in the stuff that I never touch. And that's why I found something that I never wanted to find in Scott's stuff.

I don't know how long I sat there. Hours, maybe. I just sat, tools forgotten, Lucy forgotten, holding a plastic bag full of white powder. I knew what it was. If you go to enough parties, you know what drugs look like versus sugar or baby powder. And it wasn't baby powder I was holding. Drugs. All this time. He had drugs in here. After all I had told him. He had his own private stash. My stomach rolled and heaved, and I ran into the bathroom, waiting to see if I could calm down or if I would just puke right there. I was still there when I heard the front door open.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded as Scott walked in the door and then to the garage.

"Out." He answered cheekily.

My voice strained, "Out?"

"Yeah." He yelled from the garage, "Out."

I yelled in frustration before storming into the garage, my mind in a mix between anger and shock. Scott was leaning over the engine of an old beat up Chevy truck. I had the sudden urge to slam the hood shut on his head. And this time, I wouldn't be taking him to the hospital. Instead I grabbed a two by four we were using for the bathroom reconstruction and slammed it down on the counter as hard as I could, causing Scott to jump and turn suddenly. His face drained of color when he saw what I was holding out towards him.

"What the hell is this?" I yelled angrily.

Scott shifted uncomfortably, his eyes shifting from the bag to my face and then back, "None of your business." He finally answered, grabbing at the baggie.

I moved my hand away from his quickly and glared at him, "Scott, I will ask you one more time before I flush this shit."

He glowered at me for a moment then sighed, "It's not for me."

My eyebrows shot up, ""You've got to think I'm as dumb as a pole."

"I swear, Kat." He insisted, "It's not for me."

My glare bore deep into his eyes, searching for the truth in the midst of my anger, "Who's it for, then, Scott?" If you're not using, then why do you have it?"

His eyes darted back and forth again, "It's…"

"It's what?" I shouted, "It's what! I was beyond furious, "What the fuck are you thinking? After all I've told you; after all I've told you about my mom and all the shit she got herself into? About all the drugs she fucked up our lives with? And now, guess what, Scott's got his own little stash. I should have dumped you the moment you woke me up."

Scott put his hands up, trying to calm me down, "Whoa, Kat, hold on. It's not my stash! I don't know who it's for!" Calming down a bit, I crossed my arms, waiting for more.

"I don't ask questions," he continued. "I just make the deals."

My jaw clenched before unclenching, "Oh, so you're not using, you're just dealing? Because that's better."

"It's the only way I can get money right now, Kat," he answered pitifully.

I looked at him with disdain, "What do you mean, 'the only way?' what about the cars? I thought we were doing okay."

"Well, we were," he sputtered. "But now we don't have jack left from the cars. We haven't in a while. I just didn't want to worry you."

"How can we be out of money already?" I asked, my temper flaring a bit. "Did you spend it on drugs?"

Scott glared at me, "Hey! You know I'm just as against using as you are. But it's not as if it's cheap to live here, Kat. Food, drinks, everything. Prices go up and down every hour here. We had plenty saved, but then…hospital bills and all that. The cops are demanding more and more to not notice that we're here."

"But do you have to sell drugs?" I spat.

He sighed and ran a hand through his scraggly hair, "I don't know what else to do. Right now it's the only thing that's paying off."

I looked away from him, a tear slipping down my cheek. I wiped it away furiously, "How long?" I persisted, "How long has this shit been in my house?"

"About three weeks." He admitted.

I nodded, biting my lip and clenching my eyes shut, trying to keep myself from beating him senseless. "Kat…" he began, then stopped as I held up my palm towards him,

"It would be advantageous for you not to speak at this moment." I took a deep breath and then glared at him, "How could you?" I almost whispered, fired in my eyes, "How could you fucking do it?" I screamed this time.

Scott's gaze leveled with mine before he growled in anger, grabbing one of the smaller tool boxes off of the counter and throwing it across the room. I ducked as it hit the wall, knocking the hanging tools to the ground "How could I keep money in our pockets so we can survive?" He yelled back, "How could I provide shelter and food? My god, you're right, Kat. What was I thinking?"

We both glared at each other, staring each other down. Scott was the first to back down. He looked around the garage at the scattered tools. Taking a deep breath he tried a different approach, "I swear to you, Kat. On everything I own. I am not using. I am just selling."

I shook my head and began to pace back and forth, "I can't deal with this. I can't. I can't even fathom how it can be the only thing. How is that possible?"

I felt a hand fall on my shoulder and I yanked away violently, glaring once again at Scott, "Touch me again, and I will break your fucking hand."

Scott swallowed and stepped back, trying again, "It really is, Kat. Short of prostituting myself on the streets. I'm sorry you don't trust me enough to believe that." Defeated Scott went back to the truck, "Do what you want with that baggie, but know that it's that baggie that has your next meal in it."

I let out a breath and walked out of the garage, throwing the offensive baggie into the sink before sinking to the bed and screaming furiously into one of the pillows. I was too angry to see the logic or truth in what he was saying. I didn't care, all I knew was that he had betrayed my trust the moment he brought drugs into our home.

Looking around the small shack another tear slipped down my cheek, "Thanks a lot." I whispered silently, trying to stop the flood of tears I could feel behind my closed eyelids. "How could you do this to me, Scott?" I choked out before curling up into a ball on the bed and crying myself to sleep.

The next morning I had that odd feeling like I was being watched again. I never understood that about Scott, he seemed to like watching me sleep. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up with his eyes on me. Sometimes it was okay, but when my eyes met his and I remembered the conversation we'd had last night it took everything in my power not to jump him and beat him to death. I sat up and sneered at him, "I thought I told you I hated it when you watched me." Okay, that's not actually true. Despite it's creepiness I couldn't deny that Scott watching me sleep was equally cute so it wasn't actually cause for me to hate it.

Scott walked up behind me as I was getting a drink of water, "I'm sorry." He said, placing his hands on my waist, "I really am."

I was tempted to move away, but figured that it wouldn't really help anything. Instead I turned away from the sink and faced him. If I wasn't so mad at him I might actually think he looked sexy with his guilty eyes and his hands on my hips. No, I was angry at him. Clearing my throat I looked into his eyes, "You swear you're not using?"

He held out his arms for me to see them, "No track marks, no red around my nostrils, no dilated pupils, and if I could I'd piss in a cup just so you could test it for any sort of drugs in my system."

I looked away from him for a moment, "No." I whispered, looking back at him and hugging him, "I trust you." He had trusted me with a secret that would get us both killed. Why would he start lying now? Scott's arms wrapped around me and we stood, embracing for a second before I pulled away, "If you're lying to me and I find out about it…I'm so kicking your ass." I warned.

"If I'm lying," he smiled, placing a finger over my lips, "I won't fight when you try to shove your foot up my ass."

I chuckled and pushed him slightly, "Smart ass."

Scott grinned arrogantly, jutting his chin out, before his expression suddenly sobered and he looked at me, "How did you find it?" he questioned. "You're not using are you?"

Looking him in the eye I shook my head, "Nothing more than alcohol and cigarettes and that's only when I'm out partying with Rachel." "And one day I am going to quit the smokes."

"Okay," he nodded, "Just checking."

I hugged him again, "Thank you for caring enough to ask."

He nodded and let go of me then walked towards the bed, "I'm going to sleep now."

I looked out the window, "But its morning."

"Yes, and I spent the whole night working in the garage and then watching you sleep," he mumbled from the bed.

I turned to look at him, "Why?"

He sighed and propped himself up on his elbows, "Well, I didn't want to get into bed with you because you might've tried to kill me, and I didn't want to sleep because if you found me sleeping, you might have tried to kill me," He looked at the ground, "or worse, you might have just left."

A lump caught in my throat. I hated everything about it, but he was right, and I knew it. I had paid the astronomical medical bills. I knew that little was coming in to replace it. I sure as hell wasn't going to start tricking and I didn't want Scott to either. "I should have listened to you last night," I started but Scott stopped me.

"No, I should have told you about it from the start."

"I never would have let you," I argued.

He nodded and fell back on the bed, "Still, at least you would have known."

I stood, watching him for a moment before I spoke again, "I've been thinking." I started, watching for a reaction from Scott, "I want to help." Yeah, I know that seems like a sudden change of heart, but I've never been one to back away from hard times. Life sucked and you dealt with it however you could. If this was the only way, then how the hell could I let him take all of the risk?

Scott didn't move but I could tell he had heard me. I walked to the bed and lay down next to him, resting my head on his chest. "I'm serious, Scott. If cars aren't bringing in the money then I have to earn my keep another way. We both know that I refuse to do the prostitute deal, so if I have to help you with this then so be it."

That got a response, "No."

"Yes." I fought him.

"It's too risky." He argued, opening his eyes and looking down at me.

I rolled away from him and crossed my arms, "Oh, so you can risk your life selling drugs but I can't?"

Scott turned to me, "Kat, I don't want you to get involved. Not after what you've been through."

"Yeah," I spat, "well what about what you've been through? And what about the deal we made. I get to help out. I refuse to live here free of charge."

Scott sighed, defeated, "Fine. You can help. But you are not going to be doing any deals."

"Okay," I equally backed down, "So what will I do?"

"You can be my delivery girl."

"Scott…"

"Kat, that's where I need the most help at," Scott broke in. "You know the people at parties. You could bring anything in and nobody would ask questions. If a cop saw me with a backpack, he might search it. You're such a fixture, that nobody would think about it. You just go in, give the right person the stuff and leave."

"What about money?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't handle the money. They make the deals in advance with other guys. I just pick up the order and give it to the buyers. I get paid by the sellers usually." He looked down. "Kat, please change your mind. In three weeks, I've already been threatened at least six times about what would happen to me if the stuff was bad."

"I'll be okay," I said. God, I hated this. Drugs, stinking, rotten drugs. It was the worst thing I could think of getting into, and here I was, fighting to get involved. "This is just temporary, right?"

Scott looked up. "Absolutely. As soon as we start making enough to live on again with the cars, we're out of there. We just have to be careful in the meantime. Business can't stay slow forever, and Garrett said that as soon as I wanted out, there were no problems."

"Garrett? Mr. T.A. Barron got you into this?"

"Not exactly," Scott said. "I called Garrett to see if he had any side work needed. He said that they didn't, and asked if I was low on cash. I said that work was slow, and he offered me a part-time job. We got together and he told me the deal. I figured it would just be a few times, but it's gotten to be every night now. Sometimes more than once a night. With all of the work we've done for Garrett before, I guess he thinks he can trust me more than other guys. I can't complain because I get paid by the delivery." I had been wondering about his newfound socializing. In a way it was a relief to hear that Scott was working and not hanging out with the guys. I knew Scott was a workaholic; if he had changed that much this fast, I would have been worried.

"So how are we going to do this?" I asked, getting down to business. "If we get more runs done, then we can get cash stashed quicker and get out of this mess."

"I'll pick up from the suppliers and give it to you. You make the drops and give me a call. I get paid from Garrett's flunky." Scott looked at me again. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"No," I replied. "But I'm not going to stay here on a free ride."

He nodded and then stretched out on the bed. "I'm going to get some sleep," he said. "This kind of living is usually made at night anyway."

I went into the garage to let Scott sleep. If I was going to be hauling this crap around, then I had a problem because it was going to be in Lucy, and there wasn't a good way to hide things in Lucy, barring throwing a blanket over it. Yeah, that wouldn't get a cop's suspicions moving. I thought about it for a while, and then started tinkering with some ideas for hidden compartments. I worked until the afternoon, and was quite pleased with the results. It was nowhere near done yet, but I had figured out a way around a few problems and when I was done, there was no way these compartments would be noticeable to the casual observer – or even an interested searcher.

I figured that if I was going to start helping, then it might as well be tonight. Time to get cleaned up and start my new life. As a drug-dealer. I sighed. If it was the only way that Scott and I could make it, then I was going to have to try. For a moment I thought about splitting, but there was no way. Especially when I walked into the shack and gazed at Scott still sleeping. I might be able to ditch a boyfriend, but Scott was a lot more than that to me. And whatever we were going to have to do to survive, I was just going to have to deal with it. Scott stirred in his sleep, muttering my name. I smiled. I wasn't going anywhere. Pulling up a crate next to the bed, I sat and tried to figure out what Scott found so amazing about watching another person sleep.


End file.
